Tangerine Tot

His orange makeup is smeared on his shirt,

  and his face always looks somewhat butt hurt.

He likes to party with models and such,

  Don’t give him the tab; he only goes Dutch.

He likes to make deals, a quid for a quo,

  Lining his pockets with everyone’s dough.

His tacky red tie is really too long,

 He never admits to doing a wrong.

He’s known to grab women who’re his type,

  And doesn’t want you to believe the Epstein hype.

He expects us all to kiss his pink derrière,

  The finest butt cheek there is anywhere.

He’ll pardon his pals for doing his will,

  While you and I must foot the bill.

He says the tariffs are not paid by you,

  It ain’t his fault when your bills are all due.

If you cross him, there will be hell to pay,

  You wind up in prison for many a day.

I guess we all are stuck with this man,

  But in two weeks, he’ll have a pan.

His numbers say everything’s swell,

  Here on the road to tangerine hell. 

LDT Feb 27, ‘26

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