D trump stared in his mirror.
The image didn’t fit
His handsome face! The mirror woke
And said, “You look like shit!
This happened to Obama,
Or so his mirror says.
You start by thinking you’re the king,
Then drop into a haze
Of politics and deals and laws
That lasts the whole day through.
It hits them all, from Washington
To Reagan: now it’s you.”
“That’s not what’s wrong,” trump answered.
“I’ve got just what I wanted.
The problem is, I’m not alone—you see
I think I’m haunted!”
“Oh—Lincoln’s ghost,” the mirror sniffed.
“The staff’s seen him a jillion
Times—what’s new?” “Not just one ghost—
I know I see 5 million!
And not just here—they’re everywhere!
And just before they vanish,
They wave their registration cards
And laugh at me in Spanish!
It’s not just me who sees them.
They aren’t some kind of spoof.
Sean Spicer says they’re really there.
Steve Miller says there’s proof!
They voted in New Hampshire,
5 million came by bus
To vote out Kelly Ayotte and
They did the same to us!
They then moved to Virginia,
By unmarked truck and van,
Then drove again to Florida
According to a plan
Of Hillary’s that I would lose
By these 5 million floaters
Who, everybody knows—ask Steve—
Are all illegal voters!
“It’s just not fair! It’s SAD!” he cried,
“It’s just the thing that flusters
Me when I try to make us great—
Quick! Telephone Ghost Busters!”
The mirror blinked. “You won, you know.
You’re here—why should you natter?
Five votes or fifty or five hundred—
Clearly—they don’t matter!
If they are ghosts—get exorcists—
There’s lots among the Papists—
And send them back to Mexico—
Bad hombres, spooks, and rapists!”
D trump looked back with bloodshot eyes.
“Oh, they matter—as you’ll see!
When I first claimed illegals vote
The millions then were three.
But somehow now the number’s grown—
It’s like it’s come alive
And multiplies until it’s now
In millions up to five!
And, as it grows, my numbers shrink—
At my inauguration,
Steve says at least two million came–
That’s no exaggeration!
The crowd was yuge—just bigly yuge–
I know, ‘cause I was there,
But, when you see the photographs,
One half the Mall was bare!
And—as my numbers plummet fast,
I can feel their numbers grow!
If this keeps up, I just can’t see
How high those numbers go!
And soon, I think, there’ll come a time
They’ll steal my re-election.
They’re worse than wetbacks—they’re just like
An HIV infection!
The mirror sighed. “If you don’t mind?
There’s one thing you can do.”
“What is it?” “Make sure that your wall
Will just encircle you.”