Thursday, March 22, 2018

No. 296: The Lovesong Of Donald J. Trump

(with apologies to T. S. Eliot and Dante Alighieri)

S'io credesse che mia risposta fosse
A persona che mai tornasse al mondo,
Questa fiamma staria senza piu scosse.
Ma penciocche gammai di questo fondo
Non torno viva alcun, s'i'odo il vero,
Senza tema d'infamia ti rispondo*

When I see Vlad P.
it makes me think
what would it be like
if we met for a drink?
Though I don't drink,
I have to say
looking at Vlad,
I wish I was gay.
He seems so strong,
so self-possessed.
Could I rest my head
on his manly chest?
Then with my head
lying peacefully there,
would he run his hands
through what's left of my hair?

Would it disturb the universe
if Vlad played doctor
while I played his nurse?
I have, as you know,
been with” a porn star,
but oh how I long
to “be with” the Tsar.
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*If I thought that my reply were given to anyone who might return to the world, this flame would stand forever still; but since never from this deep place has anyone returned alive, if what I hear is true, without fear of infamy I answer thee.  Inferno