897: Donnie’s PPE Sillyoquy (after Richard № III)

WASHINGTON, A STREET (July 9) —

Let Democrats fear, let them wear hazmat suits

until Chinese virus completely subsides.

I, Donald J. Trump, refuse. I will not.

I’d look ridiculous. Those suits are hot

inside. Plus I have my pride. And my ties

clash with all those suits’ colors and cut.

(Which both emphasize the size of my gut.)

MSDNC would make me a joke.

And, in a hazmat suit, you can’t have a Coke®,

a Big Mac, or some other junk food

which I require when the mood strikes me. 
If I vanish this virus with a decree,

would not then the whole world have to like me

and have to ignore the sad lying book,

probing my massive brain’s crannies and nooks,
that says, psychologically, Trump is deformed,
that this pathology is Trump family norm,
that my father, Fred, was mad as a hatter,
that this gave rise to my need for flattery,
that daddy and mommy never did love me,
that no one could? Is this a discovery?
Trump is as Trump is. Trump does what Trump does.
Trump is trump always. Trump is because.

Donald J. Trump need not wear PPE.

No person, no thing can ever hurt me.