Trump Walks Out on Pelosi, Schumer

President rules out infrastructure deal while investigations continue; lawmakers of both parties expect legislation to move ahead

WASHINGTON—President Trump said he wouldn’t work with Democrats while investigations of him continue and abruptly ended a meeting with the party’s leaders Wednesday, casting fresh doubt on a divided Washington’s ability to complete big-ticket legislation in the next 18 months.

TRUMPLAND, May 23

Everything I have ever done,
I have done on my own.
Clearly, I don't need anyone.
I'm taking my ball and going home.

When I was a babe, just a newborn,
I said, “Ma, leave me alone!
Filling my diapie is the best fun.
I'm taking my ball and going home!”

Later in school I made my own rules.
I knew what I was doin'.
If some teacher or kid did not like what I did,
I took my ball and went home.

Then as a teen, I might have been mean
due to testosterone.
When some little flirt would not lift her skirt,
I did it myself and went “home”.

I excelled at college sharing the knowledge
for which my big brain is known.
After four years impressing my “peers”,
I took my degree and went home.

There was a war which I found bor-ing!
but I had some spurs on a bone.
My daddy concocted a note with a doctor,
and the draft board told me, “Go home.”

In Manhattan, I built many businesses.
(Daddy Fred gave me a loan.)
I was god-awful — even unlawful —
and felt completely at home.

I did deals to get rich as a son of a bitch
and learned lotsa stuff off Roy Cohn,
who, by the way, taught me to say,
“Do it my way or go home.”

Speaking of Roy, I was not his goy-boy.
In those things he left me alone.
To this very day I say, “He wasn't gay.
And anyway, my balls were my own.”

With every wife, I married for life.
(Unless she turned into a crone.)
When they got old, I heard they were told,
“Mr. Trump is sending you home.”

I lived in a tower, had plenty of power. . .
but I wanted a throne.
Though hesitant, I became president
making the White House my home.

I do not fancy dealing with Nancy
and hate it when Chuck starts to drone.
And both of 'em stall on building my wall,
so I'm taking my ball. . .going home.

There will come the day my gravestone will say,
“He was not a John Gotti clone.
He caused a panic, being Satanic,
'til the devil welcomed him home.”