A good plastic surgeon and some cyborg parts
Could graft me two broken hearts.
Then I could join the Bionic Old Farts.
Which never succeeded, despite several starts.
Lunch today is turkey salad
No one’s choice for a folksy-type ballad
Turkey in the straw, but not turkey in the salad
Rhymed quatrains–should be couplets–are here invalid!
Does that mean I can’t say I like chicken salad?
Yes, but that messes up the rhyming scheme.
Ignore the last line, twas just a dream
I’ve made it through the afternoon slump
Then came the latest Tweet from Trump.
He’s all about the Mexican wall
To which I would like to nail his ball.
But now it’s evening and night approaches
Time to hunker down, in the Dumpster, with the roaches.
And have a shot of Harvey’s Bristol Creme
Maybe he’ll die, maybe dream.
My peg-leg is really starting to itch