Day 775, The Donald’s Garden

 

The Donald worked at CPAC, in his garden for two hours.

He fertilized his vegetables and watered all his flowers.

He raked and hoed between the rows, attacking all his weeds

And cast aside the weeds he pulled for crows to eat their seeds.

 

He used, “bullshit,” the fertilizer vegetables all like,

And as his scarecrow, AOC, her head upon a pike.

Did he import some Russian seeds or study their techniques?

This garden is all Donald’s, there’s no need for Russian geeks.

 

The flowers and the vegetables all sang in Donald’s praise.

They seemed completely unconcerned with coming darker days.

For Democrats are coming to stomp on the Donald’s flowers.

Dark clouds continue gathering; Bob Mueller looms and lowers.

 

Will tending this one garden keep the country Donald Trump’s?

If he goes wider in the land, will he encounter bumps?

Can he subsist on vegetables?  Will some ask, “Where’s the beef?”

Will Donald guide the Ship of State to crash upon a reef?