The Lovesong of Donald J. Trump

A parody of The Lovesong of J. Alfred Prufrock, written for Donald Trump

The Lovesong of Donald J. Trump

Se pensassi che la mia risposta fosse stata fatta a qualsiasi giornalista

Chi potrebbe mai tornare da questo D.C. Hell

In un posto come Mar a Lago, terrei la bocca chiusa.

Ma dal momento che la tua anima deve essere così avvitata

Come il mio è se viviamo in un mondo dove

La gente ha votato per me,

Nessuno dei due deve davvero preoccuparsi

A proposito di storia più.

If I thought my response was being made to any reporter

Who could ever return from this D.C. Hell

To a place like Mar a Lago, I’d keep my mouth shut.

But since your soul must be as screwed

As mine is if we live in a world where

The people voted for me,

Neither one of us really has to worry

About history anymore.

Let us go then, you and I,

When the fairway is spread out against the green

Like laying a pornstar is obscene

While your wife is lying at home with your newborn child.

Let us go and act wild

And spend daddy’s money on one night cheap hotels

That we try to resell like fake pearls

Which never came out of oyster shells

And try to lead people through labyrinthine

Gilded lobbies that lose them

Like answers to their questions

About our taxes.

Let us go, and shred some faxes,

And get rid of some cancelled checks,

That we sent to our playboy ex.

In the Oval Office there is drama

And people keep talking about Obama.

The yellow pee that stained the Russian sheets,

The yellow streak that reeks upon my back

And leaked upon my slacks

Curled once about my pillow and left a streak

So that I could finally release, and go to sleep.

And indeed there will be time

For the yellow sludge I send down the gutter

After languishing in it slowly

Stil, it makes me flutter.

There will be time 

There will be time

To menace and obstruct,

And to threaten when I’m fucked.

There will be time to prepare my hair,

And use more hairspray

Than one would dare

So that I can stand with flair

At a county fair while eating

Corndogs and pretending to be a man of the people.

There will be time yet to pitch another Apprentice sequel

While eating a bucket of KFC.

In the Oval Office there is drama

And people keep talking about Obama.

And indeed there will be time

To wonder, “Do I dare?”, and “Do I dare?”,

Time to turn back and descend the stair

They will say,”How his hair is growing thin!”

My coat and collar accentuating my double chin,

My tie far too long, and like me, not close to thin.

They will say, but he has committed so many sins!

Do I dare

Disturb the universe.

In an election there is time

For decisions and revisions

Which an election shall reverse.

For I have known them all already, known them all.

Known fox and friends in the morning, fox in the afternoons,

Watched Hannity in front of silver coffee spoons.

I have known the migrants dying with a dying fall,

Beneath the pages of a constitution

Which resides in a separate room,

So how should I presume

To know what to do with babies locked in cages?

And I have known the eyes already, known them all-

The eyes that fix you against the wall

When they can barely crawl

And keep whining for formula or milk.

Why don’t they go and spin some silk,

Or do something useful for my economy?

Is it the smell of their distress

That makes me so digress?

Should I offer them a diaper or wrap them in a shawl?

And would that be enough?

And how much can I do?

Should I say,

“I have been mistreated too.

And even treated more unfairly than you.

It’s called Presidential harassment!”

I have never experienced personal attachment

Like a lobster obsessed with the size of his claws

Perhaps at some point I will stop and pause,

I don’t understand how others continue so peacefully,

But perhaps with my hair smoothed

By Kelly Anne Conway’s fingers,

Perhaps when soothed by National Anthem singers

Who know the words to a song which escapes me.

Perhaps with the help of Sean Spices

I will have the strength to force the moment to its crisis-

Maybe if I wept and pouted and hugged a flag?

Maybe they wouldn’t see my belly sag?

I have seen the moment of my greatness flicker

And seen Robert Mueller hold an orange jumpsuit, and snicker,

And in short, I was afraid.

And would it have been worth it, after all.

After the electoral college

And the campaign ads and MAGA hats.

Would it have been worth while,

After the corruption, obstruction, and collusion, 

To rush to a conclusion

Or should I yell, “I control the government, control it all!”.

Should I lash out and act small,

Like a three year old who has to put away his toys?

Should I just say, “Screw you. Screw you all!”.

It is impossible to say just what I mean,

Unless someone writes it for me 

and I can read it off a screen.

One day when they make a movie of my life,

After we have recovered from all this strife,

I hope I will be played by someone super,

If I had my pick, it might be Bradley Cooper.

How sad it would be if they were to say,

“That is not what he was like,

Not what he was like at all.”

What if my legacy is left by Stormy?

Just another man that’s horny.

More of a mushroom,

Than a solid piece of wood.

Perhaps I’ve done no good.

I grow old……..I grow old………

I cannot use English correctly on twitter,

And long ago my soul was sold.

Shall I admit I’m losing hair?

Should I dare to be impeached?

I have heard Ivanka and Don Jr.

Singing each to each.

I do not think they will sing to me, and they will probably waste all of my money.

I have seen them in the Seychelles riding on catamarans

While sipping cocktails and t

alking collusion,

And talking with Russians about spreading confusion.

I have seen them basking in plain sight,

While trying to explain to all that black is white,

We have dreamed the dreams of a family duly crowned,

Til district attorneys wake us, and we drowned.