When Mr. Trump won the Presidency

He was a very happy man indeed;

Armed now with singular clout,

He could triumphantly proceed

To cleanse the realm of fake Americans,

Build a wall to keep out Mexico,

Make canny deals with foreign tricksters,

And send the terrorists to Timbuktu.

Alas this Polonius lately come,

However he may tweet his tough resolves,

Or shunt his own men one by one,

Finds that Authority’s bluster little solves

Issues of great complexity,

Or muzzles dissent and debate,

As things move to a circumstance

Where his own men may seal his fate.

Mr. Trump may well be on his way

To becoming  an Andrew Johnson number two,

Another maverick in the highest place,

A danger to the world, to me, and you.