An Advertisement for Beer (aka Coronary Disease)
It’s not a thing to satirise
Covid-19 won’t hear your lies
Or mumblings of your vain conceits
Mike Pence or your stupid tweets
Corona Virus does not care
What you label as hoax or scare
And should this episode abate
Do not even attempt to state
That it was you who cured our ills
Your policy on healthcare kills
Disparaging knowledge and science
Placing instead greater reliance
On your hand-picked Vice President
A man of God and punishment
For those whose only ever sin
Was to lie down with same sex skin
Allowing Mike the old excuse
That “God approves of my abuse”
And so an illness uncontained
By moral rectitude remained
Excuse me then if I depart
From Trump’s view Mike has any part
Leading the charge against a flu
(Of sorts) that’s killed more than a few
A man who will deny the truth
Of science, is no kind of sleuth
Whose main talent not to detect
A single fact is so perfect
That I would say a bloodhound’s nose
Has more intelligence than those
Who govern the United States
Giving rise to benighted hates
And therefore, we have to conclude
Trump’s administration collude
With ignorance and suffering
(And Roger Stone’s vain puffering)
An illness that affects the ears
Of Trump who’ll say “pardon” to cheers
From his supporters at a rally
Getting close and very pally
But when he speaks and starts to sniff
Around the hall a little riff
As people move towards the door
They’ve seen him sneeze like this before
But strangely still they pay attention
For reasons that they dare not mention
Because contagion now has spread
Amongst the hoard, so fear and dread
Permeates the sordid crowd
Of those who like to hear out loud
The ramblings of a President
Who insults all the innocent
From darkest recess of his mind
Thoughts to turn visionaries blind
And so with Covid gaining strength
Trump will go to any length
So now he tries diplomacy
A policy of “wait and see”
For if Covid’s powerful and strong
It might be best friend’s, like Kim Il Jong
So maybe Trump can do a deal
In such a way as to conceal
The nature of a wicked virus
By saying to the public “hire us”
Just for one more little term
Mike Pence and I (my favourite germ)
Allow us please (we’re quite infectious)
We will deliver (with our sect’s juice)
Do not construe our comments sexual
We’re merely trying to stop the Mex, you’ll
Have to excuse this small digress
From telling you a fact far less
Than honesty could e’er support
That’s how we roll. Oh, Il Est Mort!
It seems that Mike has fallen down
Upon his face a solemn frown
It seems he was not very pleased
Being quite so badly diseased
And so now individual one
Is left alone but he’s not done
For Mike the deft evangelist
In death had left a little list
Of things that Trump could still achieve
Reliant on skills to deceive
So Trump now fights to save himself
Nobody else unless their wealth
Can buy a place in Donald’s bunker
The place he mostly likes to hunker
Just those with the very best slice
Of life, may swing not once but twice
Then they top the ball of course
So much, then, for all the force
They put into their rotten shot
Into the sand trap (where they rot)
Paying homage to M. Bin Salman
Who can settle bills far bigger than
Even normal rich folk can
No wonder there’s no Saudi Ban
Though even I am not a fan
Of the regime that’s in Iran
Religious autocracy ain’t fun
And so Covid has begun
To take advantage of belief
Irrational, so to be brief
Like Trump relies on lack of learning
And gauges merit in those earning
Excessive amounts of cash
Whose habits may give them a rash
In places I cannot say
(A story for another day)
In any case my little rant
Has grown too long, and so I can’t
Continue any longer
Though together we are stronger
So if you made it this far
I’m grateful, you are a star
And so for this rhyme to end
My little atheistic bend
For though Godless I will pray
That your President may
Despite not being best in a crisis
At least know just what the price is
Of dealing in random chance
As he previously lost his pants
In Casinos the “businessman”
Showed all his talent, rather than
Proving himself unto his daddy
Who bailed him out with chips (the baddy)
Oh dear I caught a second wind
What happened there, did I rescind
My previous promise to end this
Long ramble, well I’ll now desist
I got rather carried away there didn’t I?
Slàinte