Poetics and Ruminations

Miss Pussy's Parlor Songs, Part Eleven

 

 

KNOCK-KNOCK, WHO'S THERE?

 

"Who's that knocking at my door,

Who's that knocking at my door,

Who's that knocking at my door,"

Cried Donald J. Trump, Junior.

 

"It is only I, a Russian spy,"

Cried a dark young woman.

"Come in, come in!" cried Donny Trumpkin.

 

"Who's that knocking at my door,

Who's that knocking at my door,

Who's that knocking at my door,"

Said Donald J. Trump, Junior.

 

"Oh, just another Russian spy,"

Called a lobbyist.

"Come in," said Donny, "and join the list."

 

"Who's that knocking at my door,

Who's that knocking at my door,

Who's that knocking at my door,"

Said Donald J. Trump, Junior, etc., etc....

 

 

CELEBRITY APPRENTICE

 

You want to work for me?

Okay, you're hired.

You call that loyalty?

Okay, you're fired.

 

You'd like to do the job?

Okay, you're hired.

You tell me, "Don't butt in"?

Screw you -- you're fired.

 

SCARAMUCCI

 

Scaramuccia (literally "little skirmisher"), also known as Scaramouche or Scaramouch, is a stock clown character of the Italian commedia dell'arte. The role combined characteristics of the zanni (servant) and the Capitano(masked henchman). Usually attired in black Spanish dress and burlesquinga don, he was often beaten by Harlequin for his boasting and cowardice. -- Wikipedia.

 

A stock clown character of

The commedia dell'arte,

The "little skirmisher" of

The grand Republican Party,

 

Dressed all in black, becomes

The latest White House hack --

Sucking on his thumbs

He'll go on the attack

 

As the servant of a zany

Who is, like him, a boaster.

During the Trump campaign, he

Rode the roller-coaster,

 

Seemed not to be too scared,

Although he did get dizzy,

A fuzziness he shared

With those that he kept busy

 

Talking to Russian banks,

Raising lots of money --

Now Trump bestows his thanks

On a clown who is not funny.

 

 

FALLING TOWN

 

Washington is falling down,

Falling down, falling down,

Washington is falling down

Due to Donny!

 

Soon there will be nothing left,

Nothing left, nothing left,

Soon there will be nothing left --

He's worse than Ronny!

 

Fit him out with iron bars,

Iron bars, iron bars,

Fit him out with iron bars,

This disaster!

 

Lady Liberty is dead,

She is dead, she is dead!

Lady Liberty is dead:

He's dis-assed her!

 

Our religion is silver and hold,

Silver and gold, silver and gold,

Our religion is silver and gold,

Our leader's a Brahman!

 

Washington is falling down,

Falling down, falling down,

Washington is falling down,

Our God is Mammon!

 

BULLY

 

Trump is nasty, sad and bitter,

Knows how to use the bully Twitter.

 

MITCH McCONNELL HAD A BILL

 

Mitch McConnell had a bill,

Oy veh, oy veh, oh!

And in this bill there was mere swill,

Oy veh, oy veh, oh!

With a suck-suck here

And a suck-suck there,

Here a suck, there a suck

Everywhere a suck-suck,

Mitch McConnell had a bill,

Oy veh, oy veh, oh!

 

And so that bill was bound to fail,

Oy veh, oy veh, oh!

Just listen to the Senate wail!

Oy veh, oy veh, oh!

With a weep-weep here,

And a snivel there --

Here a weep, there a weep,

Everywhere a snivel-weep,

Suck-suck here

And a suck-suck there,

Here a suck, there a suck

Everywhere a suck-suck,

Mitch McConnell HAD a bill,

Oy veh, oy veh, oh!

 

Donald Trump will be so mad,

Oy veh, oy veh, oh!

He'll throw a tantrum oh! so bad,

Oy veh, oy veh, oh!

With some drivel here and drivel there.,

Here a stomp, there a stomp,

Everywhere a stomp-stomp --

weep-weep here,

And a snivel there --

Here a weep, there a weep,

Everywhere a snivel-weep,

Suck-suck here

And a suck-suck there

Here a suck, there a suck,

Everywhere a suck-suck --

Mitch McConnell had a bill,

Oy veh, oy veh, oh!

 

From MISS PUSSY'S PARLOR SONGS by Claudette McFang.

Miss Pussy's Parlor Songs, Part Ten

BUMP AND TRUMP

 

Philip Bump and Donald Trump

Fell together in the D.C. dump.

The Washington Post had Philip Bump

Write sad tales about President Trump.

Together they made udp quite a clump

Of gunk that resembled Forrest Gump

Suckling on an obstructed sump.

Donald just had to get over the hump

Caused by the Tweets he continued to pump

Out of his iPhone lump after lump,

But that will not be -- he'll fall on his rump

Which is not, alas! all that plump.

Farewell, farewell, President Trump!

Enjoy your slide, delight in the slump

Reported by Nemesis Philip Bump.

 

 

MY CABINET

 

"I don't want poor people

In my Cabinet,

I just want rich people

Who drink Cabernet."

 

 

BLEEDER

 

"That cow that works for 'Morning Joe,'

Mika, is the biggest bitch I know.

The fact that she knows how to bleed

Is more information than I need.

She likes to call me coward, bully,

So I will punch her in the pussy

To prove I'm stronger than her dad

Who died not long ago -- how sad!

I'm gonna go dance on his grave

To prove I'm big and broad and brave

And stronger than his puny daughter,

The cow I'm gonna love to slaughter."

 

 

TRUMP BE NIMBLE

 

Trump be nimble,

Trump be quick,

Wrestle the media

And make us sick.

 

 

SITTING IN

 

My name's Ivanka Trump.

I'm sitting in for daddy

With all the other leaders,

Like Tiger Woods's caddy.

 

Although I'm not elected,

Before you start to boo it,

Remember: anybody,

Just about, could do it.   

 

All I need do is listen --

I do not need to know it,

Whatever "it" may be.

My dad would surely blow it...,

 

He cannot keep his mouth shut

Although his brain is empty,

But saying something stupid

Doesn't even tempt me.

 

 

TRUMPOSITY

 

The art of the deal?

Learn to steal.

 

 

LULLABY

 

Tell-a-tell-a-tall-one,

Tell-a-tell-lie,

Tell-a-tell-a-tall-one,

Hush now, don't you cry.

Tell-a-tell-a-tall-one,

Tell-a-tell-lie,

Tell-a-tell-a-tall-one,

That's a Trumpish lullaby.

 

Up in New York City,

Many years ago,

His mother sang a song to him

In tones so soft and low --
Just a simple little ditty

In her good old frumpish way,

And he'd give a dime if he could hear

That song of hers today:

Tell-a-tell-a-tall-one,

Tell-a-tell-lie,

Tell-a-tell-a-tall-one,

Hush now, don't you cry.

Tell-a-tell-a-tall-one,

Tell-a-tell-lie,

Tell-a-tell-a-tall-one,

That's a Trumpish lullaby!

 

 

TWEETYBIRD

 

Donald Junior will be heard --

He's turned into a Tweety-Bird.

He's learned a lot from his third-rate

Father whom he used to hate

While he lived with his sweet Mommy,

Donald Senior's first divorcee.

He joined dear Daddy's strange campaign,

Met with Russians, did not disdain

To keep a record of whom he Tweeted

Until the enemy was defeated,

And now that Daddy's in the hotseat

Junior's shown us every Tweet,

Paved the road to incarceration

For the leader of our nation.

Thank you, Junior Tweetybird!

We used to think you were absurd!

 

From MISS PUSSY'S PARLOR SONGS by Claudette McFang.

 

MISS PUSSY'S PARLOR SONGS, Part Nine

 

FRITZ AND RITZ

(To the tune of "Bringing in the Sheaves")

 

Putin on the Ritz,

Putin on the Ritz,

He will come rejoicing,

Putin on the Ritz!

 

Putin on the Ritz,

Putin on the Ritz,

Trump will trumpet Putin

Putin on the Ritz!

 

Trump is on the fritz,

Trump is on the fritz,

Trump is out of order --

He is on the fritz!

 

Trump is on the fritz,

Really on the fritz!

Trump takes Putin's orders --

We are having fits!

 

 

TRAVEL BAN.      

 

"Call it anything you wish,

I just want a travel ban

On whatever is Islamish --

Call it anything you wish,

Fowl or animal or fish 

From Iran or from Sudan;

Call it anything you wish

I just want a travel ban."

 

 

TWEETY BIRD

 

Tweetybird, Tweetybird, where would you fare?

"To London, to London - they better beware."

To do what in London with tweets and with flare?

"To fight with a Muslim I'd like to meet there."

To fight with a Muslim? But why would you care?

"This Muslim's a leader, the old city's mayor.

I'd like to confront him down deep in his lair --

I'll poke out his eyeballs and muss up his hair."

Tweetybird, Tweetybird, you wouldn't dare!

"Oh, yes, I would! I'd stare and I'd glare

And then I would give him a poke or a pair!"

But what if he kicked you or kneed you down there

Under your buckle, in your pubic hair?

"He wouldn't dare do that! That wouldn't be fair!"     

 

 

THE BRAZEN TRUMPET

 

I need loyalty, I expect loyalty --

That's because I am royalty.

 

 

TRUMP IN DECLINE

 

I will not come, I will not come

To visit you in the UK

If demonstrations clog the streets

Against me -- that is not okay.

 

I will not come, I will not come

To visit you, Theresa May,

If folks don't welcome me with pomp --

Not tomorrow, not today.

 

I will not come, I will not come

If Brits refuse to shout "Hurray!"

For I am brazen Donald Trump

And if I come trumpets must play!

 

 

CABINETRY

 

"Thank you, thank you, Cabinetry,

For praising my ass off because you love me.

You're right! I AM great! As great as I can be!

You just need to open your eyes and you'll see

Kim Jong and I are the nuts on a tree!"

 

 

TRIO

 

Kim Jong Il and Donald Trump

Learned a lot from Forrest Gump.

 

 

THE RINSE PUBIS SONG

(To the tune of "Praise the Lord and Pass the Ammunition," with apologies to the shade of Frank Loesser).

 

Kiss his ass and pass the deposition,

Kiss his ass and pass the deposition,

Kiss his ass and pass the deposition,

And we'll all go free!

 

Bare his ass and swing into position,

I just love to be a politician!

Kiss his ass, we're all between Perdition

And the deep Blue sea!

 

Yes, the Dork, our President, has said it:

"You have got to give me lots of credit,

For we're all out on a mighty mission

On the Fake News on TV!

 

"All aboard, we ain't a-goin' fishin' --

Kiss my ass and pass the deposition

Ain't it great to be a politician?

You just might go free!"

 

From MISS PUSSY'S PARLOR SONGS by Claudette McFang.

Miss Pussy's Parlor Songs, Part Seven

 

PART SEVEN

 

THE WAR ON COAL

 

The War on Coal is over

With windmills in the air,

With solar panels on our roofs

And water everywhere!

 

The War on Coal is over,

It's back to shoveling stone,

Reviving radiation --

Cancer in the bone!

 

The War on Coal is over!

We're fracking "natural" gas,

With pipelines full of petroleum

And methane up the ass!

 

 

DO AS I SAY

 

"Do as I say, not as I do,"

Says Vladimir the Vamp

To Donald Trump, his favorite,

Most cuddly little scamp.

 

"You've violated every law

Agreed to by the nations!

If you don't quit it right away

I'll minimize your rations.

 

"What I've done in the Caucasus

And elsewhere is quite legal --

The Russian Bear can do such stuff,

But not the puny Eagle,

 

"So leave my pal Assad alone

To gas his folks in Syria!

Do nothing more to make him pay,

To make him loathe and fear ya!

 

"Or I will somehow make you do,

Not what I do, but say.

I'm Vlad Bear Chest as you must know --

I thought that you were gay!"

 

 

SPICER "THINKS"

 

That famous basher al-Assad

Is worse than Adolf Schickelgruber

Who never gassed his untervolk

When Deutschland was alles uber.

 

The Holocaust never occurred --

Auschwitz was a Nazi spa,

Apparently, where people went

When they were feeling kind of blah.

 

When one is born, then time begins,

And everything that came before

Does not exist, so Spicer thinks,

Thus it is easy to ignore.

 

 

THE BIGGEST BOMB

 

The biggest bomb in the modern world

Carries the onus of being hurled

By the biggest anus of the smallest lump

Of dust in the cosmos, Donald Trump.

 

 

ARMADA

 

" We're sending an armada

Full of deadly weapons

To threaten North Korea

With TNT and atoms.

 

"Our task force will arrive

Any day and assail ya,"

Donald Trump avers...,

"Wait! Now they're in Australia!

 

"I'm pretty sure I mentioned

To all my Navy buddies

That they should hit Korea,

Not play with fuddy-duddies

 

"Down-Under at their war games.

There's some misunderstanding

About what they're supposed to do,

Where their bombs should be landing!

 

"I guess I'll have to handle

This mess all by myself!

Hand down my water pistol

Lying on that shelf!"

 

 

ARSONIC

 

The CinC went on TV

To say Comey was fired.

Comey saw on TV news

That he'd been disenhired!

 

The President was very brave,

For he had been empowered

To hire and fire almost at will --

He was no sleazy coward

 

Hiding in the Oval Office

While on the other coast

Comey at a conference

Found he had lost his post --

 

Trump's email co-conspirator

When Hillary was running

Found out what gratitude's about:

Perfidy and cunning.

 

 

TRUMPELSTILTSKIN

 

Today I'll lie, tomorrow too,

The next I'll tell a whopper wild

Enough to match the things I do,

For Trumpelstiltskin I am styled!

 

Miss Pussy's Parlor Songs, Part Six

SING A SONG OF TAPPING

 

Sing a song of tapping,

A socket full of eye,

President Obama

Is nothing but a spy.

He ordered my Trump Tower

To be tapped on the sly!

Such nastiness is awwfull,

It makes me wanna cry.

He heard me and the Russians

Plotting to subvert

The Democrats' election,

And gosh! That kinda hurt!

He heard me tell a lie...,

Okay, so, more than one,

But fibbing under oath, I hear,

Is often kinda fun--

If you don't believe me,

Ask Clinton, he will say

That bj's in the White House

Are often kind of gay...,

Oops! I didn't mean that,

I'd rather urinate

On girls in a hotel

(I don't mean Watergate).

When that leak is over

My birds begin to sing --

Believe me, all my Tweeting

Is not to blame! Nothing

To do with it at all!

That nasty man Obama

Tapps everyone I call.

When I am in my counting-house

Fondling all my money,

My wife is in New York alone

Eating bread and honey

Or standing in the bathroom

Picking out her nose,

Obama's in the closet

Hiding in our clothes!

 

 

Trump's mental health has been arrested,

Much like the immigrants he's seeking,

Which stinks a lot and is detested:

Look at the havoc! He is reeking.

 

 

"Biggest chuckle of the morning: Kelly Ann Conway asked about Trump's assertion that his 'wires had been tapped' at Trump Tower, responds by saying that there are lots of ways to wiretap today, including through microwaves. Microwaves? Be careful. Be very careful what you say while you are popping popcorn. Big brother is listening!"

-- John T. Sullivan, Jr.

 

Be careful, very careful what

You say while popping popcorn!

Big Brother's in your microwave

Searching through your porn,

Listening beneath your bed,

Recording squeaking springs

Among dust bunnies and, of course.

Sundry other things

 

Like moans of ecstasy and lust

Coming from above.

Kelly Conway's got her ear

Tuned in to sounds of love

For Donald Trump's CD collection:

They'll gather every word

That you emit, and every scent

As well as every turd.

 

 

HYMN FOR KELLYANNE CONWAY

With apologies to Rev. Shurtleff

 

Lead on, O Queen infernal,

The Ides of March have come;

Henceforth in fields of funfest

Your texts will e'er be dumb.

Through days of desperation

Your words will be our song;

And now, O Queen infernal,

You've proved you're always wrong.

 

Lead on, O Queen infernal,

Till Trump has lost his lease

And foolishness has frittered

Away and we're at peace,

For not with Trumpets blaring

Or beating teeth and gums,

With all your silly errors

We seek our roll of Tums.

 

Lead on, O Queen infernal,

We laugh till we're in tears,

For giggles turn to roaring

Where'er your face appears

Your microwave hums o'er us,

Emitting unwitting jokes --

We are your doting chorus,

Frogs croaking till it chokes.

 

 

A CLEVER SPICER

 

Not even a clever Spicer

Can defend a proven lie --

That leads but to disaster;

One shouldn't even try --

It's fish caught in a fry.

 

The recipe that Spicer

Follows in his venue

Before the White House press corps

Isn't even tenu-

Ous, nor on the menu.

 

He's caught in Donald's dicer,

Squeezed through little holes

In the bottom of his ricer,

And he is none the wiser

About what's in the bowls:

 

It looks and smells quite nasty,

And everybody knows

If pudding,  it's too hasty

And certainly not tasty.

One cannot hold one's nose

 

Long enough to lapp upp

A thimbleful of glopp

While Obama's there to tapp upp

The data in Donald's lapp-topp

And the corn that didn't popp.

 

 

TATTLE TALE

 

Tattletale, tattletale,

You have some news!

Run to the White House --

It's something they'll use!

 

Don't tell the committee

Of the House that you chair

Though they are the first folks

With whom you should share

 

These alternate facts

Through lips that are loose --

Trump will employ them

To make his own noose.

 

 

TRUMPSONG

 

Gonna wash Obamacare outa my hair!

Gonna wash Obamacare outa my hair!

Keep Obamacare? They wouldn't dare!

Here comes the vote -- oh, no! It's still there!

 

 

Rump-a-dump Trump,

Three oafs in a clump,

And who do you think they be?

Bannon and Putin

And, there's no disputin',

Trump himself up in a tree.

 

From MISS PUSSY'S PARLOR SONGS by Claudette McFang.

Miss Pussy's Parlor Songs, Part Five

PART FIVE

 

Palin waved to Putin from her porch,

She called to him over the Bering Sea,

"Donald will be sending you the torch

That once was held by our Miss Liberty!” 

"Da," Putin said.

 

 

CINNABON MAN

 

Oh, Cinnabon, who is gonna ice you?

Oh, Cinnabon, who is gonna ice you?

Oh, Cinnabon, who is gonna ice you, all in a day?

 

Run to the moon, "Moon, won't you ice me?"

Run to the sea, "Sea, won't you ice me?"

Run to the sun, "Sun, won't you ice me, all in a day?"

 

Trump said, "Cinnabon, moon'll be a-bleeding."

Trump said, "Cinnabon, sea'll be a-sinking."

Trump said, "Cinnabon, sun'll be a-freezing, all in a day."

 

Oh, Donald Trumpkin, won't you stop your lyin'?

Oh, Donald Trumpkin, won't you stop your lyin'?

Oh, Donald Trumpkin, won't you stop your lyin' just for a day?

 

Trump said, "No, because I am a lion."

Trump said, "No, because I am a lion."

Trump said, "No, because I am a lion roarin' every day."

 

Oh, Donald Trumpkin, where can I run to?

Oh, Donald Trumpkin, where can I run to?

Oh, Donald Trumpkin, where can I run to every single day?

 

"No use a-runnin' -- you already voted."

"No use a-runnin' -- you already voted."

"No use a-runnin' -- you already voted, all in a day."

 

 

Pussy-cat, pussy-cat, have you come back?

"I've been to Sweden to see the attack!"

Pussy-cat, pussy-cat, were terrorists there?

"Only poor Trumpkin under a chair."

 

 

It's a long way across the border,

it's a long way to go.

It's a long way across the border,

But Donald Trump says, "Blow!"

 

Farewell to all that's decent,

Back to poverty --

It's a long way across the border,

Back to what I tried to flee.

 

 

Do you have a peepee?

Nono, not the girls' room.

Do you have a pussy?

Nono, not the boys' room.

Peepee in the boys' room,

Piddle in the girls' room,

Do them both -- piddle or crap

Sitting in Donnie Trumpkin's lap.

 

 

Rumpletrumpkin says, "I'll choose

Which media may hear my news:

Not those that may be run by Jews

Like The Times that may abuse

My fake stories -- those amuse

My supporters who don't accuse

Me of holding such stupid views."

 

 

ATTORNEY GENERAL

 

Did Jeff Sessions

Talk to the Russians?

He says he didn't, but the answer is "Yes."

Shouldn't the law

Stick in his craw?

Of course, but instead he's making a mess.

 

His new recusal

Is now an accusal

But Trump's still patting his lawyer's back.

Trumpkin's attorney

Will soon take a journey --

Hopefully both will enjoy Session's sack.

 

From MISS PUSSY'S PARLOR SONGS by Claudette McFang.

Trumped-Up Anthem

 

TRUMPED-UP ANTHEM

By Pierre Bennerup

Edited by Claudette McFang, "Miss Pussy."

 

My Country Tis of Me

Greed and Mysogyny

    Of Thee I sing.

I don't pay tax, you see —

That's sheer stupidity.

From my Trump Tower I see

    Just glam and bling

 

Send Lady Liberty

To weight loss surgery,

    Make her a ten.

Send back all refugees

Except my current squeeze:

After she needs new knees

    I'll trade her in.

 

Another billion bucks?

My payroll truly sucks—

    That's how I save.

My money’s in my vault.

Who cares if you default?

I’ll never call a halt,

    Not from my grave!

Miss Pussy's Parlor Songs, Part Four

 

MISS PUSSY'S PARLOR SONGS, PART FOUR

 

IN A MONSTROUS INAUGARTION

(Rewritten by Claudette McFang after Albert W. Ketelbey's "In a Monastery Garden"

and inspired by a Facebook typo for "inauguration".)

 

Through the murky twilight falling

Emails from afar are calling

And appalling all the weary

As attendees can attest.

 

The Washington Monument is reeling,

And Republicans are stealing

While Democrats appeal for mercy --

None are obliged, and none are blessed.

 

We rove about in a darkling land

That once seemed merely dull and bland.

I hear a voice that seems to tell me

The White House has a scary guest.

 

Joy won't come again with morning,

Not with these dark storm clouds forming

Now Donald Trump's the turtle dove

Replacing what had been our best.

 

 

Pussy-cat, pussy-cat, where have you been?

"Checking the scene at Bowling Green."

Pussy-cat, pussy-cat, what did you there?

"Looked for the Massacre -- everywhere."

Pussy-cat, pussy-cat, what did you find?

"I found that Kellyanne's out of her mind."

 

 

We have a crooked President who has a crooked smile --

He found a crooked judge, he thinks, who doesn't like his style.

He tweeted, "What a dirty rat, the countermanding louse!"

And went on fuming in his White and quite disgusting House.

 

 

A Trump came trumpeting out of his Tower

With pussies galore to show off his power.

He could sing nothing but, "Hey, look at me!

I am the greatest...ass you'll ever see!"

 

 

The Trump administration thinks that they're entrepreneurs,

But that's not true, of course, because they're strictly amateurs

Excepting when they turn themselves into self-saboteurs.

One wonders how this Cabinet's incompetence endures.

 

 

Little Don Trump

Sat in a hump

Eating his humble pie.

"California is out

Of control, and I'll pout,"

He said, "till I spit in their eye."j

 

 

"It's common sense!" Says Donald Trump

In phrases clipped and terse,

But he'd not recognize common sense

With two Pence in his purse.

 

 

"pOTUS" has a little pee,

His thoughts are in the drainer.

He means it when he does something

And says, "It's a no-brainer."

 

 

Trump, Trump, Trump, the gang is munching,

Cheer up, comrades they are dumb,

And beneath the starry flag they will soon eat crow again

In the freedom of our own beloved home.

 

 

COMPOSED IN THE SHOWER

 

What can we say about Flynn?

It's hard to know where to begin.

   He was man of the hour

   Before Trump was in power,

But now he is out and not in.

 

 

KELLYANNE'S PITCH

 

As Donald Trump's majorette minion,

It is my most humble opinion

Attacking his daughter's nice clothes

Is punching the President's nose.

So don't drop her line at the mall --

They haven't at Moscow's street stall

Because it's just fine. You should buy it --

I'm sure you'll agree if you try it.

 

From MISS PUSSY'S PARLOR SONGS by Claudette McFang.

 

Miss Pussy's Parlor Songs, Part Three

MISS PUSSY'S PARLOR SONGS

PART THREE



Monday's President was white,
So was Tuesday's, nice and light.
Wednesday's Pres. was white as snow,
Thursday's, though, was sort of slow.
Friday's President seemed numb,
Saturday's was pale and dumb.
Sunday's, though, was sort of dark,
Intelligent, right on the mark --
But Funday's Chieftain loved to lie,
He made us snarkle fit to die.


I saw a plane a-flying,
A-flying in the air;
And oh, it was all laden
With people from Qatar.

Arabs were in the cabin,
Muslims in the seats
Planning to become illegal
Voters and election cheats.

The four and twenty marshals
That stood between the decks
Wore badges on their bosoms
And chains about their necks.

The captain was a moron
With a monkey on his back;
And when the plane began to land,
The captain cried, "Quack, Quack!"


Crock-o'doodle-doo,
What's a Trump to do
When he has a parrot
But wants a cockatoo?

Crock-o'doodle-doo,
What's a Trump to do
When he has some pussy
But wants a cockatoo?

Crock-o'doodle-doo,
What's a Trump to do
When he's eaten chicken
But wants some cockatoo?


Diddle, diddle, dumpling, Donald Trump
Went to the bathroom to take a dump,
Managed to make much more than a paw full,
Stunk up the White House something awful.


Tell me, hooded wise old man,
As the Magus of the Klan,
Did you vote for Donald Trump?

I did vote for Donald Trump --
He's a lot like Forrest Gump.

 

UPON SEEING THE PREZ HUG LOUISE GORSUCH

Star Trump, star chump,
No star I'd like to hump,
I wish you may,  I wish you might
Grab a pussy that's quite uptight.


Another Scalia? There is nonesuch,
No court would hope to see one,
But there's a fellow called Gorsuch
Who's going to try to be one.


Old King Trump was a grumpy old lump,
And a grumpy old lump was he.
He sat on his rump and made Forrest Gump
Some sort of Secretary.


If all the seas were one sea,
What a great sea that would be!
If all the trees were one tree,
What a great tree that would be!
If all the axes were one axe,
What a great axe that would be!
If all the men were Donald Trump,
What a great ass he would be!
And if the great ass took the great axe,
And cut down the great tree,
And let it fall into the great sea,
What a great splash that would be!


TRUMPING THE NATIONAL PRAYER BREAKFAST

Pray, oh! Pray for The Apprentice
And Arnold Schwarzenegger
Whose ratings have fallen through the floor
And he's become a beggar.

He took my job, and look at him,
He governed California,
But he cannot be President
For he was not born heah.

This double darkling of the screen
Needs to have our prayers,
So on your knees, good gentlefolk,
And kiss my orange hairs.

Hickory, dickory, dock,
Donald exposed his cock,
But pussy was closed
And Donald got hosed,
Hickory, dickory dock.


I had a little pussy,
Her name was Lady Gay,
I rented her to Donald 
To pet her and to play.
He poked her, he pumped her,
He rode her through the mire.
I would not rent her out again
For all of Donald's hire.

Miss Pussy's Parlor Songs, Part One

Claudette McFang

 

MISS PUSSY'S PARLOR SONGS

Trumpty Dumpty sat on his wall.
Trumpty Dumpty had a great fall.
He climbed up his wall and fell down again
And again, and again, and again, and again.

Wee Donald Trumpkin runs through the town,


Peeing on the hookers in his nightgown,


Peering through the windows, crying through the locks,


"Are the johns all in their beds and turning on their cocks?"

I had a little nut tree --
Nothing would it bear
But a Donald Trumpkin
And some pubic hair.

The President of Russia
Hacked Hillary and me,
And all for the sake
Of my little nut tree.

Bumpity, bumpity, bump,
My name is Twittery Trump,
I eat out of pans and old tin cans
Because my mind is a dump, a dump,
Because my mind is a dump.

Bah! Bah! Donald,
   Have you any hair?
"Yes sir, yes sir --
   You had best beware,
For I have no master:
   I will maul any dame,
Because the mighty lion
   Has an orange mane."

An owl flew onto Donald's hair.
It bent and pecked his pate's scalp bare
So it would have space for a turd --
I wish I were that wise old bird.

Donald had a little ram,
It's fleece was black as ink,
And everywhere that Donald went
The ram was sure to slink.

It followed him to work one day
And caught Monica's scent.
From that point on that is the room
Where all their time was spent