The ghosts had left from Halloween

Except the two trump sat between

And watched as bony fingers stroked

His I-phone keys and deftly poked

The letters, back, forth, then repeat

To send another realdon tweet.

“Who are you?” asked d t with dread,

“It’s past the day when all the dead

Should be asleep once more—don’t you

Beyond the grave have stuff to do?”

“You woke us,” said the one and typed,

“You called us,” said the other, “hyped

Your followers with us both and so

You need us now and we won’t go—

Not ever—we are here to stay—

Yes, even past election day.”

“SAD!” said the screen, and “LOSERS!” then,


“I’m sorry,” said one ghost, “I can’t

Write much of what you really rant

About in all the lies you’ve lied,

But so much of it’s just implied—

Although, from what your voters think,

And say in polls, a lot must sink

Right in: and that’s our influence

(they think that it’s just common sense

And you’re straight-talking, upright, too

When we know, don’t we, all that you

Are saying really comes from us

But made to sound ambiguous.”

“Though sometimes, said the other, “not—

That tape where women turn to twat

Is what you think—we taught you how—

But you can’t be so open now.”

A lightbulb flashed in donald’s head:

“Hey, wait! I know you!” d t said.

“Sexism,” said the one, and smiled.

“Racism,” said the other, “Child,

You’ve learned your lessons well and you

Have put them into practice, too,

And how much greater the extent

If you become the president!”

“So, don’t mind us,” the first one said,

“In fact, we’ll help you get ahead.”

Its fingers tapped the keys—“strong men



Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s