Trump Up Hope Poem by Keith Rushing

The louche magniloquent maladroit malaise of the dense mayonnaise mouth of political palaver and longueur left me with that sad sinking feeling of believing there is nothing left to live for.

Lugubriousness aside, I was nevertheless momentarily nonplussed until I recalled that a bona fide thespian was once president. And to my dismay I remembered to say: nothing in the world can bother you as much as your own mind.