Trump was stirring all alone (poor him), joined by not even a mouse.
The tweets were sent by the president with speed,
Without concern about spelling, or grammar, or need.
While visions of vacancies danced in their heads.
Soon gave me to know I had so much to dread;
He spoke so many words, did so little work.
He began calling the children; he was kind of a jerk.
Laying his fingers all over the phone,
And giving a nod — (This will make you moan.)
Asked how old he was, and if he was doing well in school.
But I heard him exclaim, ere I let him fall out of sight—
“Are you still a believer in Santa Claus? Because at 7 it's marginal, right?”