I DREAMT ABOUT THE DONALD

Last night I had a nightmare, it was November 2016
And Obama was soon going to be a has-been
In my sleep, I wondered about the next POTUS
If it were to be a certain someone, heaven help us

If the ex-First Lady didn’t make it
Of which I have my doubts
Then we might have a brash billionaire
Were Americans to elect that lout

Whereas Mr President would be rich
With money coming out of his ass
He’d also be pompous and arrogant as hell
With complete sub-zero class

So what if he were a Richie Rich
He wouldn’t be worth a dollar
Certainly not leader of the Free World
Only the fringe would be his followers

With guns, God and Palin on his side
They would be completely smitten
He’d be a state guest in all the countries
Well, maybe except for Britain

He’d be a buffoon with a bouffant
Even dumber than Dubya
Obnoxious and rude to women
Couldn’t get much worse, Iowa, could ya

$ 2 mill a week may get him TRPs on TV
But would it help to boost his image
And whoever were to be chosen as VP
Was going to suffer irretrievable collateral damage

I dreamed on about the debate
Spewing fire, spouting hate
And thought after the likes of Lincoln or Kennedy
Was this man really the remedy

He’d sit in the Oval Office
An insensitive, sexist boor
Think he’s on the sets of The Apprentice
Could someone show him the door

The most powerful man on the planet
Would be flying on Air Force One
With the Secret Service protecting him
And the world waiting for him to come undone

He would buy out Camp David
And fence in all the fifty states
Send every single illegal back
As if they were ‘return to sender’ freight

He’d screen all visitors
Keep possible immigrants out
And if challenged on any point
Be a petulant bully and pout

He’d fix the economy
Even if it weren’t broke
He claims he has the answers, you see
At least, thus he spoke

He’d set things straight, make America great
He’d boast of righting all the wrongs
He’d carry along the allies
While Iran and North Korea get schlonged

He’d ride the back seat of the Beast
Show Putin just who’s boss
He’d re-brand The White House
With his surname, not giving a toss

He’d stare down the dragon
Look Hu in the eye and get him to blink
Then build another Manhattan
In downtown Shanghai, who would think

Carpet-bomb the shit out of ISIS
Not knowing what they stood for
While waving the flag, USA! USA!
And then bombing them some more

Used to having his own way and uncaring of opinion
He’d be a man of small stature
He’d reduce the highest office of the land
Into a shambolic caricature

He’d have the rest of the world
Looking on in shock and awe
His foot-in-the-mouth faux pas
Making them drop their jaws

He might have to be bailed out again by a Saudi prince
Yet not take it as a slap on his face
I wondered in my sleepy state
Wishing for the other NYC mogul to enter the race

The bad dream wouldn’t end
I thought that I was cursed
Till good fortune took over, and I felt
My bladder (like Hillary’s) was about to burst

I shuddered as I woke up
And hit the floor with a thump
Realised, thank God I’m Indian
And I don’t have to vote for that chump

But I still said a morning prayer
For the home of the brave and land of the free
From sea to shining sea
That they didn’t get a man such as he