The Elephant In The Tomb Poem by Long Tooth

A crowd shares the vault as King Trump waits to die,
And Lords Mitch and Paul Ryan in dark corners cry,
Deep throated pride often, a crass quest for fame,
Yes, 'Aida's' one metaphor! Love was her game:
Not bribes from the Russians, or dalliance odd!
Her devotion inspires us; their morals are fraud!

To hate any truth but your own is a joke,
And conservative zealots must be snorting coke!
Get rich schemes are likely to hasten their end,
And these racist, rich scumbags, would they know a friend
Whose gift was a bulletproof vest? Feeling tough
They use all men like stepping stones; women treat rough!

Best bring lots of water; Trump's not known to share,
Ask the women and children (not under his care!)
It 's all about him, hope you're light on your feet,
Or he'll soon take a bite of what some call their seat.
That's not unexpected, been clear all along,
That the Don would sell wife, child, or friend for a song!

Long Tooth
August 25,2018