Votamon Go!

For a minute-and-a-half or two, the odd-haired Donald was alone

So spent the moment flipping through his younger daughter’s phone.

He always did this ‘cause you never knew what sort of crap

The kid would see or listen to, like maybe porn or rap

Or maybe some attacks on him—he knew that there were plenty,

And so it didn’t matter that the girl was over twenty.

Her password had been tricky and it almost drove him crackers

Till he finally turned it over to some eastern Europe hackers.

It all checked out so far—but then he thumbed and up it came:

It looked like something Japanese and, worse yet, was a game.

He found the site it came from and he watched the video

Then tried it for himself, but yet it wasn’t what we know—

Instead of chasing monsters with your i-phone in your hand,

It led to chasing voters through a grim and doubting land.

The scene was set in Cleveland O, but everything was weird:

The whole Republican establishment had up and disappeared

Which meant, for getting votes and donors, he was on his own

And, if he hadn’t had himself, he’d felt himself alone.

He followed the instructions, though—his pokedex was there

And, reading the directions, he was very well aware

That somewhere in the landscape was the very place he’d see ‘um—

The donors who were hiding in the Rock and Roll Museum

Or maybe West Side Market held the key to his election

(he’d read reviews that raved about its very wide selection).

The Quicken Loans Arena? Or maybe Cleveland Zoo?

So little time and he, alone, had so much now to do!

His poke balls were ready and he knew that none could match

His skill—so off he went to see what voters he could catch.


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