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He was always a thug with a coarse mouth, peacock swagger,
and a proclivity to break rules like his paterfamilias who
wouldn’t rent to African Americans but sent his misbehaving boy
to military school to learn how to play football, stick it to losers,
and escape the draft so as to not serve in Vietnam or praise
John McCain for being captured rather than killing the enemy
in real estate deals that were too big to fail or have T***p
put into jail for hiring undocumented workers to mount his name
on glitzy Gotham towers and gaudy gambling casinos that
went bust in New Jersey where busts are bounteous and
pussies can be grabbed for the asking if you are a celebrity
palling around with Russians, wrestlers, and rapscallions from
Fox and Friends who want to make America great again
like it was in the eighteen fifties when blacks were chattel and
nativist numbskulls were not considered nattering nabobs of
negativity by their supporters but impassioned Neanderthals
capable of challenging Obama’s citizenship and backing a
Muslim ban and a Slavic first lady who under our nation’s new
immigration rules would have been a deportation priority during
the nineteen nineties when her husband did not report hundreds of
millions of dollars in taxable income by using a tenuous tax maneuver
later outlawed by a Congress that is now led by a Cheesehead from
Wisconsin and a prune face from Kentucky who loves coal more than
the proles who work the mines in a state which ranks forty-seventh in
educational attainment, is solidly Republican, and has a constituency
the POTUS respects as much as Marla Maples who learned she was
being divorced by reading about it in the New York Post rather than
seeing it on TV where Jim Comey found out he had been fired as
Director of the FBI and students from T***p University discovered
they had been defrauded by a corpulent con man who thought
climate change was bogus, Mexicans were bad hombres, and
a nasty woman was making life difficult on the campaign trail
by calling the star of the Apprentice Putin’s puppet, a teller of
untruths and a fellow unfit for the highest office in the land
of the me, the home of the knave, and the dockets red glare,
lawsuits bursting in air, gave proof through the night that
our hate was where it has forever been—gays, the elites,
liberals, immigrants, people of color and those perceived as
getting a good deal in a global economy that features
home runs for the rich, strikeouts for the poor and
lies hit down the foul line that T***p always calls fair.
Martin H. Levinson is a member of the Authors Guild, National Book Critics Circle, PEN, and the book review editor for ETC: A Review of General Semantics. He has published nine books and numerous articles and poems in various publications. He holds a PhD from NYU and lives in Forest Hills, New York.