They are building walls around their slums.

He won’t like the Taj Mahal

as much as his gambling hall.

“This one that you’ve got is pretty,

but not like Atlantic City.”

He won’t say he had to hock

his casino to Hard Rock.

Meanwhile, monkeys wait in Agra,

all pumped up on chimp viagra,

planning demonstrations when he’s there.

They just want to play in his nest hair.

Forces armed with their sling shots

will try to cool off their hots.

Melania had best dress down,

put away that rhesus gown.

Trump’s big speech at House of Cricket:

“India, here’s my boot…Lick it!”

He’ll make Prime Minister Modi

into his best roadie toady,

from his armored limo wave,

driving over Gandhi’s grave.

All the people of New Delhi

want to see the dude’s big belly.

If it works out, there may be new trading.

He might say their wall needs an upgrading.

And if a monkey comes too close, he’ll kick it.

That, my friends, could be a sticky wicket.