Ah, those glory days when he led cadets
From his military school in a parade.
Down Fifth Avenue struts drum major Don—
Alleged bone spurs later stationed him at clubs.
Now he orders a parade for himself
Disguised to honor the Army’s big 2-5-0.
He uses troops and weapons to tout his might.
The most terrible thing, the soul of who’s in charge.
He invited everyone to watch his show
With its battle tanks, helicopters,
Drones and human props. Not that many came,
A lot left early before he could infect
Their patriotism with his gross conceit.
It turns out a parade needs to be about
More than the ego of a fat old man
Deluded by power, vengeance and ill-will.
Around the country other parades were held.
Crowds came out for liberty and No Kings.
There’s still joy in righteousness, peace and love
And hope that all the tanks will melt in hell.
