Es Ist Schon Spaet

Trump looked out the window
With growing dismay:
It was too wet and chilly
For golfing today!

He sat there and pondered,
As always, alone,
And felt no great urgings
To reach for his phone.

“Since what can I do
Which won’t just repeat
What I did at 4:30,
In that multipart tweet?”

So he pressed his long nose
Against the cold pane
And stared at the curtains
Of late summer rain,

Until he felt lulled
And was almost asleep
When the silence was cracked

He turned in his chair
(which was too small for him)
And there in the doorway:
Was his secret pal, Jim!

And not only Jim—
That alone would be luck—
But Jimmy was pedaling
A red fire truck!

He roared in and shouted
“I hear there’s a fire in
The West Wing—let’s douse it!”
And then hit the siren!

“I’ve got firemen’s hats
And boots—we’ll look funny
But who cares?” Then a tiny voice
Said, “Nein! Dere’s no money

In clowning around—
Dere is no time to shirk!
Donnerwetter, kleiner donny,
You get back to your work!”

But Jim laughed, “That’s living?
No way—oh, come off it!
Pursuit is for happiness here,
Not for profit!”
And when the voice rose
To turn into a yell,
Jim laughed all the louder
And jangled his bell!

“Tell Grossvater Fred
Zurueck! Go away!
We’re having some fun
On this cold, cold, wet day!”

Trump smiled at his buddy,
But shrugged, “I’m conflicted!
I’d love to have fun
But Fred wants you evicted

And I’ve always had voices
And sometimes they’ll holler
If I don’t keep my focus
On making a dollar,

And I’d like to have fun,
And not be so alone
With all of the millions of things
That I own,

But I…can’t, Jim, I can’t,
So it’s no use to try!”
And then one big teardrop
Rolled out of his eye.
So he turned to the window,
And heard, “Bye, then, don.”
And, when he turned back
Truck and Jimmy were gone

And all that remained
As the rain outside fell:
One last little tinkle
Of the fire truck’s bell

Which was lost
As his Grossvater made a loud snort,
“So, now you must make me
Your weekly report!”

As the rain sheeted down
For the rest of the day
And outside it grew dark–
it was too late to play.


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