Ode To The White House Felon

[jazzy_dave]

Ode to the White House Felon

by Jazzy D




In marble halls where history sleeps,
A brand-new headline boldly creeps.
The Resolute Desk now sports a mugshot,
“Presidential” with a rap-sheet subplot.

He tweets at dawn in all-caps rage,
Then funds his PAC from center stage.
Subpoenas pile like unpaid rent,
Yet hairspray holds the government.

“Law and order!” roars the crook,
While lawyers bill by chapter and book.
The golf cart’s armored, just in case
The Secret Service loses face.

Indictments stack, the polls still climb,
A teflon tan that beats due time.
Orange jumpsuits? Nah, just suits of gold—
The only bars he knows are sold.

So raise a glass of Diet Coke
To irony dressed up in a yoke.
The felon in the white house grins,
“Crime doesn’t pay—unless you win.”