Trumpophobia: A trifling fear


when I have fears that Trump may POTUS be
when his demagoguery befuddles my brain
from before he even started to insult Hillary
using conspiracy theories in a constant chain 
when I hear the words coming out of his face
irrational pronouncements of his latest advance
and know their veiled origins unable to trace
all gobbledygook and drivel meaning left to chance
and when I think I just can’t stand another hour
of him on the tube hoping I shall see him no more
and never need to think about him being in power
reflecting what political campaigns were like before
the Trumposphere I must write and have to  think
his confusing thought and convoluted ideas stink
John Keat’s original sonnet title is: “When I Have Fears That I May Cease To Be/” 
Great are the States! I might be content
great are the States! and I might just be content
to love this great country that we call our own
to hear Americana music in cyberspace blown
but I must work, buy food, pay taxes, and the rent
John Keats,“yet do I sometimes feel a languishment”
for a Supreme Court with its complement of nine
stifled by Republicans who stall before election time
and forget what our Constitutional founders meant
great are the states but in D.C. confusion still reigns
enough of their puerile petty partisan politics for me
and empty campaign promises from Trumpty Dumpty
pivots on positions, panders, and constantly complains
great are the States! and I might just be content
this Fall when we elect our first woman president
John Keats original sonnet title is: “Happy Is England! I Could Be Content”.


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