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SEASONS HALLUCINATIONS

ROM NORTH AMERICA SYNDICATE, 300 W 57th STREET, 41st FLOOR, NEW YORK, NY 10019
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BOB FRANKEN
FOR RELEASE SUNDAY, DEC. 23, 2018

SEASONS HALLUCINATIONS

T’is the time around Xmas but we’re into a rut now
The Trumpster has caused a new government shutdown
While he stayed at the White House and enjoyed every perk
Many hundred thousand feds were forced out of work

Melanie was just restless, tossed and turned in her bed
Even counting the trees downstairs, the ones she dyed
red.
Donald Trump was still up, he just couldn’t sleep
Too many distortions that he needed to tweet
So he too was squirming as he sat on his mattress
His brain was just churning: how to insult James Mattis
Had a moment of sadness, his eyes turned even tearier
After Jim’s resignation over bailing on Syria
He just couldn’t relax, allow his insults to turn duller,
Many people to trash plus his shots at Bob Mueller.
No visions of sugar plums danced in his head
Just Cohen and Flynn feeding into his dread
And ways that he might use his power to pardon,
Before he’s an inmate, controlled by a warden.
So lost in a reverie over a presidential indictment
The clatter on the lawn startled him, his heart racing, he was frightened.
“Mueller’s coming to get me, good lord, what a mess!”
He fleetingly thought he’d be under arrest.
His mind started racing with all the confusion,
In panic he was shouting “There is no collusion!”
Then he composed himself, took a breath and a pause
It was not the cops after all, just that perv Santa Claus.

He is usually jolly, but this year he was storming
About how the North Pole was melting, drowning in global warming.
Had no presents at all, he was sarcastically droll,
All he brought for The Donald were some bags full of coal.
He carried an attitude, he’d never been meaner
As he reached in a pocket to hand Trump a subpoena.
Involving Stormy, and Karen, and Trump’s aphrodisiacal fun
Indictments where his name is “Individual One”


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But that wasn’t all that made Donnie nervous,
He wondered how Santa Claus had snuck past Secret Service.
Claus had quite a disguise, though he did appear fat,
But what fooled everyone was his red MAGA hat
And what really bugged him, our President Don
It was what reindeer were plopping onto the south lawn lawn .
Santa meanwhile, ignored them, he was really a boor.
Leaving deer piles behind him, he entered Trump’s door
He had no more gifts but headed straight to the rear
Right to the fridge, he was searching for beer
All of these centuries, who would have thunk
That jolly old elf was really a drunk?

POTUS had no beer, Diet Coke, but no alcohol
That’s one vice he doesn't have, no drinking at all.
Which surprises his critics who witness his act,
His constant use of the alternative fact
Some even say that their own diagnosis,
Is that POTUS is afflicted with a raving psychosis.
“Remove him” they argue, others are more on the fence
His replacement no better, after all, it’s Mike Pence.
A few desperate ones have another approach,
They say “There must be a way that we could impeach both.

Claus was anxious to leave, his search for booze thwarted,
He needed to get out before being deported
He didn’t have papers and in this immigrant climate
He was nothing more than a threatening “migrant”
So He shouted “On Hannity, Blitzer, Acosta”
“Happy holidays all including this mobster”
Who is mostly known for his gross falsifying
Or let’s call it what it is, he’s constantly lying.
This report of what happened is based on some interviews
But Trump denies everything says it’s only “fake news”

(c) Bob Franken

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This page contains a single entry from the blog posted on December 23, 2018 8:07 AM.

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