Twice Shy

Midnight at Buckingham–

Off in the back,

The Queen and her corgis

Were having a snack.


“Now Willow and Holly,

It’s come all too clear

That that awful man, trump,

Very soon will be here.


Never mind that he thinks

That a deal is an art

Or his last name is slang

British English for ‘fart’,


Or he’s constantly tweeting

The most libelous things

Or his flat would embarrass

The worst of French kings,


Or his policies, programs, and plans

are hotch-potch,

Or his monochrome ties

All descend to his crotch,


Or he’s constantly praising

Himself to the skies

And every third word

Is a tissue of lies,


He demands that he ride

In a carriage of state

With the horse and the foot guards

To Buckingham gate!


Now that nice Mr. Xi

Was so pleased that we asked

And the Mexican president

Practically basked


When We offered the coach,

But to say it’s your right!

Well, that’s why you’re called

To this meeting tonight.


Now, we–you and We–

Are soon reaching the age

When we’ll exit at last

The political stage,


But experience counts

And We need your best guess,

So give one bark for ‘No!’

And two for a ‘Yes!’


Now, Willow, begin:

In the matter of trump,

Should We just say, “Not on!”

What? ‘Bite him on the rump?’


Well, really! We couldn’t!

Oh–you’re saying that you

Could give him a nip–

Hmm. That simply won’t do.


A snap of the jaw,

Even lacking intent,

Could provoke, all the same,

A most fraught incident!


It’s perfectly fine

To bite postmen–fair game–

But chomping a president

Isn’t the same


Since the nip of a postman

Might set off alarms,

But a president comes

With his nuclear arms!


So, Holly, your thoughts?

What can we three do?

No fang-work–that’s out. What?

You could pee on his shoe?


It’s tempting–although

We’ve heard it from Vlad

That such crude behavior

Just might make him glad!


But, still–there’s a thought–

He’s known round the globe

For boasting he’s also

a real germaphobe.


Suppose We decline

And he starts to reproach

Us, We say, ‘You can come,

But Our dogs share the coach?’


We won’t brush your teeth,

Feed you kidneys and leaks,

And fistfuls of garlic

till your breath fairly reeks.


And then introduce you–

It remains to be seen,

But We bet he’ll prefer then

A state limousine!


Good girls! That’s the ticket!

We’ll mess with his head!

But now, if we’ve finished,

It’s time for Our bed.”


She left, but the corgis

Remained on the floor.

“I think we should bite him—

We’ve done it before,”


Said Holly, but then replied

Willow, “No maybes—

We put teeth in that chap,

We would both die of rabies!”


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