A painting on 3 panels is a triptych. A Trumptych is 3 odes to our fabulous first family.
| I. The Donald
My fat face will not make me a star.
And I lack social graces or charm.
But fake money speaks loud
to the shallow in-crowd,
So there's always a babe on my arm.
Dishonesty’s my favorite tool.
It can cover the tracks of a fool.
I just lie, cheat and steal -
that’s the art of my deal,
then toss insults just to be cruel.
Yes, character's something I lack.
I'll stab friend or foe in the back.
So false pride is not all
that will lead to the fall
of this ignorant arrogant hack.
II. The Wives
We don't sway all the men with romance.
It's our beauty that strikes at first glance.
That's the way our game's played,
and we're very well paid,
for charming the snake in his pants.
We smile and charm the deplorable;
pretend that he's always adorable.
We have to be blind
per the pre-nup we signed,
and never admit that he's horrible.
The gravy train lasts til we fade,
until face or figure show age.
When wrinkles appear
or pounds in the rear,
then it's time to be ushered off stage.
III. The Kids
We were born to be better than you.
Silver spoons lead to smug attitudes.
Though talentless turds,
our future's assured,
by the Trump funds already accrued.
We grew up amidst plenty and ease,
with no need for hard work or degrees.
An executive suite
or the White House elite
are just perks when you're part of the sleaze.
Our democracy’s played for a fool,
and justice just looks like a tool,
when those without merit
can simply inherit,
the privilege to dictate the rules.
Terrence G. Fisher. 2018
Author's Note ▼