Man Of Action

The beginning of the Trump presidency—an exciting time!  Its energy is celebrated below; the previous Trump poem can be found here.

I am Donald J. Trump, man of action.
Though I don’t really care what I do,
I do lots of it, all of it loudly;
If you’re calm no one notices you.

See me banging my spoon on my highchair,
Hear me shrieking the words in my head:
I’m terrific terrific terrific,
I will not I will not go to bed.

I like making a pile of rubble,
I don’t care what the rubble once was.
I like smashing a plaything to pieces
Just because just because just because.

I like hollering what I am saying,
I don’t think about what I have said.
What’s the point of just sitting there thinking
When you could have been screaming instead?

I am Donald J. Trump, man of bedlam,
And the bedlam’s ambition enough.
I’m a doer; not any of my fault
That there’s all of this breakable stuff.



If Trump Tweeted About Actual Dangers The Way He Tweets About Refugees