Donald J Trump At The Pearly Gates Poem by Michael Maxwell Steer

Hey howya doin' St Peter?
I got better gates than that.
Pearl's such a mess,
You need gold to impress -
And out front you're missing a greeter
With a radio mic and top hat.

Now here's what you gotta do
To Make Heaven Great once again.
Start selling sin
To get 'em all in:
And guns can do business for you …
You understand what I'm sayin'?

Look around you, who are all these bums -
The poor and the lame and dumb?
Just clear 'em away
And get folks who'll pay.
Tell God He's not doing His sums:
Get 'em right, and the Right people come. ;)

And all this stuff on forebearance!
These days who thinks it worth bigging?
When I'm feeling bitter
I take to Twitter
And never lose sight of a chance
When I'm in a hole to keep digging.

Sompnelse that you're getting all wrong -
the approach road so steep and unsteady.
Just do it my way
And build a broad highway;
Those footpaths to wisdom? Too long!
They're sad and old-fashioned already.

St Peter was moved to reply
But Trump held up his hand like an oar:
Don't argue with me:
Here's how it'll be
From now on! St Peter just sighed:
This we've all heard before.

But now he replies with impatience
To this ignorant comb-over fool
With inherited money
And no sense of funny -
It seems you learnt nothing at school
And considerably less from experience!

Trump, I don't know how to say this,
But really you haven't a clue.
Peace demands trust -
Which you never discuss -
While another must is
A desire to see justice.
Would you say that you helped other races?
No. You simply don't care who you screwed.

Good day to you Mr Trump!
The last thing we want is a dump
Of your nuclear arsenal
Or anything personal
Here. So do us a favour: stomp
Off and return to your swamp.

You think we lack ‘modern amenities',
So given your taste for obscenity
Not far away
Is a great place to stay -
Where they're sure to look after you swell -
May I cordially recommend Hell?