By David E.J.A. Bennett
The world heard Donald trump.

Some laughed because farts are funny!
Even as far back as Seneca from Rome, 

And even further still to Aristophanes of Greece,

The hilarity of flatulence has wafted along the annuls of time,

Passing through passages of intellect; blustering across the pages of history’s greats.

Trumps have been funny since way before the Donald!
But, when Donald trumped, some inhaled that noxious gas; 

swilled it around in their toothless mouths like unseasoned connoisseurs, and, 

to the soundtrack of licensed gun fire, exclaimed:
“We love the sound, the smell, the taste,

And the chemical reaction of Donald’s trump!

We want to follow that trump, be led by that trump,

Be protected, directed, and fed by that trump! 

We want to breath that trump deep in our lungs, 

And exhale so everyone smells that trump on our gums!”
But when trumps by a trumpeteer as trumpy as Donald,

Are unleashed on the world scene with transnational reach,

Those trumps are not funny.

Methane is responsible for more harm to the atmosphere

Than the entire motoring industry.
It’s fine if a trump squeaks out in the night,

Under the duvet, for you and your partner’s delight.

But the humour of trump subsides at the point

When the world’s held to ransom to the Trumpier points.

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