Fine. Give him a trophy, to put on his shelf,
A big gilded mirror to admire himself,
An army parade, his adrenochrome maxed,
Whatever he wants to let us get vaxxed.
Pile gold upon gold like Montezuma of old
To pay Cortez’ ransom, so that tale is told,
Give him a sapphire, ruby-encrusted throne,
What he demands to leave NATO alone.
Make his self-named bitcoin the currency of the land
His wife on the glossies on every news stand,
Write rock-and-roll ballads on the shape of her legs
To lower the tariffs and the high price of eggs.
Erect a gold statue of him in each park
To get ICE to stop grabbing folks in the dark,
Give him that ballroom to indulge his greed
So trans kids can get the drugs that they need
Everyone, go buy NFTs of his cards.
Posed like Superman with praetorian guards,
Posed like a messiah on every church door,
To let cancer research proceed as before.
Give him a harem of cute playthings for life,
Miss Universe will be his umpty-umpth wife,
Make the news photoshop out every wrinkle and crease
To get him to leave icy Greenland in peace.
Yes, we are the problem. We have standards and rules
And where did it get us—accounted with fools!
He is the dealmaker, let us deal with the fact
That stroking his ego is a patriot’s act.
Image generate using Canva.
If only this strategy would work.