He was caught in bed with spies,
covered head to toe in lies.
He’d revealed some secret codes,
and, as drastic as that bodes,
there were rumors he’d done worse,
blister on the universe.
Yet his people found him funny,
even as he took their money.
Like an addict to his power,
he grew bolder by the hour,
met his critics with derision,
and his skewed malignant vision
put his populace in danger.
He was clearly a Lone Ranger.
With the one-percent his Tonto,
he was getting richer, pronto.
There would clearly come a day
he’d hi-ho Silver away.
Then a small group did get wise
and this posse gained in size.
When these rebels of fake news
finally verified his ruse,
they said, "It’s not O.K., pal,"
and surrounded his corral.
He was dragged off, spitting bile,
put in custody for trial.
He’d played his country fast and loose
and now awaits impeachment’s noose.