Two POTUS poems: Face-off in the Nursery Ward; One for the GroperMore Info
Face-off in the Nursery Ward!
Two big babies howling in their facing cribs,
little, tiny hands balled into fists
— a pair of pygmy pugilists! —
the whole ward waiting for nurse
to change the scrappy babies’
One for the Groper
Behold a geezer named Donald —
a groper, not a Gipper, like Ronald.
A lecherous phony,
he extrudes yards of baloney,
and when he ad-libs sounds addled.