Santa’s Visit to Donald Trump

A Christmas Rhyme

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On Christmas Eve Santa was making his rounds,
Traveling the globe by leaps and by bounds,
Arriving in Washington until he found
the home of the President, whom he thought was a Clown.

Santa Claus climbed down the White House chimney
to the Oval Office, where he saw Trump, grimly
sitting, Tweeting, and guzzling a big Diet Coke.
Trump sounded very surprised as he spoke.

“Who are you? Is this some kind of joke?
I haven’t seen Santa since that year I went broke.
Maybe you’re just some Deep State rat?
I bet you’re a registered Democrat.”

“Good evening, Donald. No, I’m the real Santa Claus!
And I’m visiting you because there’s probable cause…
that you’ve broken some serious ethical laws!”
(Here Santa took a short moment to pause
to watch Trump stuff a Big Mac into his jaws.)

“You have damaged the global economy!”
Santa said. “And undermined social equality!
“And you’ve never saved a bird, nor a whale that was beached.
Your orange hair appears to be badly bleached.
I think the people would like to see you impeached.”

Trump replied: “Santa, I find this so rare,
Attacking me and my beautiful hair.
Your opinion of me is completely unfair.
You should hear my side. Here take a chair!”

“France’s digital tax makes me greatly displeased.
Google and Apple already feel squeezed.
So Yes! I’ve slapped tariffs on French wine and cheese!
And Porsches and Audis and Italian Capris.
I’m just getting started. This is only a tease.”

“Russia must not supply Europe its Natural Gas!
Putin’s “Nordstream 2” plan is totally crass.
We can really ship gas clear across the Atlantic!”
yelled Trump, who now sounded a little bit frantic.

“Other countries are stealing our best new ideas,
Such as bacon-filled bagels, and cheese quesadillas.
While Tesla’s new factories may get copied or cloned.
If someone steals Trump brands they’ll surely get droned!

“Some say the economy’s never been better
because 10 dollars buys you a new Christmas sweater.
But Free Trade isn’t free!,” said Trump. “It costs jobs.
Jobs of my beloved North American slobs.”

“And I don’t care about the Media’s concerns:
I’ll never show my income tax returns.
I don’t care if the whole world burns.
Or the earth’s axis no longer turns.”

Santa said: “Now is my time to retort.
If you’ve broken the law it’ll be settled in Court.
I came here tonight to your humble abode
in order to teach you a more ethical code.”

“It may come to you as no surprise
that I brought you some gifts to open your eyes.”
(While Santa pulled gifts from his extra large sack,
Trump looked like he suffered a panic attack.)

“Here’s Pinocchio’s nose–for your many big lies;
And an extra large bag of McDonald’s French Fries;
(We heard you were running dangerously low on supplies.)
Here’s a subpoena, a summons, and a six-figure fine.
Here’s 10 million signatures that demand you resign!

“We went to Mar-a-Lago too, where it hurts you the most.
Our Trojan horse waits off the Florida coast,
filled with reporters from the Washington Post.
What’s the matter, Donald? Have you seen a ghost?”

Trump said: “This witch-hunt is making me tired.
I think that you and the Deep State have conspired
Against me, but your plot has backfired.
You’re the worst Santa ever! So I say: You’re fired!”

“You can’t fire me Donald, but I’ll give you a chance.
It’s more than you gave China, Germany, or France.
Stop the Trade War. It’s not going to work.
It’s just another reason people think you’re a jerk.”

“Stop the unethical quid pro quos!
Give the Nuclear Football back to the pros.
Don’t lie, Don’t Cheat, and Don’t Steal.
Stop claiming you wrote The Art of the Deal.”

As gamblers say: ‘You’re all out of luck.’”
Las Vegas predicts that you’ll self-destruct.
And by next Christmas, you’ll be the lamest Lame Duck.
Then they’ll load your junk back onto a truck
back to Mar-a-Lago, where you will be stuck.”

“But life is full of small things that surprise:
Like ‘President Trump’ who wears ugly red ties
Like Bob Dylan winning the Nobel Prize.
Or Santa Claus’ sled rising into the skies.
So maybe the veils could still fall from your eyes.

“So in the end, you have a Choice, and Free Will,
Unless you’re convicted up on Capitol Hill.”

“Get out!” yelled Trump. “And don’t come back.
Or I’ll order the North Pole under attack!”

“You wouldn’t dare!” said Santa. “But it is time to go.
More World Leaders need Karmic presents, you know,
Like Boris Johnson and Jair Bolsanaro.
And whoever blocked the budget of the WTO.”

“So now I leave you here in the West Wing
And we can only pray you’ll Do the Right Thing
By bringing good will to every nation.
I hope you enjoyed our perfect conversation.”

The End

Editor of The Satirist ( America’s Most Critical Journal; satirist, critic, standup in Amsterdam

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