Trumplewocky

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SLHARPERPOETRY

trumplewocky1

‘Twas feckish, and the irkly grobes
Did fark and fistle in the slade;
All dingly were the rectiprobes
And the dampnuts updrade.

“Beware the Trumplewock, my friend!
The bigly mouth, those puny mitts!
Beware the Tweet bird, and off-fend
The cronious Perkletits!”

She packed her poisal voice and went:
Fat chance the vapid imp she’d spare—
So quivered he ‘neath his Cheeto tree,
And feebly cried, “Unfair!”

And, as the greelish light grew pale,
The Trumplewock, with wits of wood,
Came grabbling through the femly vale
Because he thought he could!

Eins, zwei! Eins, zwei! And quick as pie
The poisal voice sliced fierce and true:
“Go flay yourself, you mawkish elf,
And burn the residue!”

The Trumplewock would rue the day
He left his diddlepot of lack.
The frankish words would haunt him ‘til
He went galumphing back.

‘Twas feckish, and the irkly grobes
Did fark and fistle in…

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38 thoughts on “Trumplewocky”

  5. Sorry for long-winded comment here . . .
    Ingenious skewering! The Jabberwocky definitely fits the bigly-ness of the administration. I was trying to think of a blowhard as the subject of a famous poem and couldn’t come up with one. Closest I came was Prufrock, BUT he’s an indecisive, wilting flower not a megalomaniacal whatever-it-is-that-Trump-is. Maybe the narrator, at times, of The Waste Land, in his/her mad moments (mermaids singing, etc.). It’s funny, but not many ‘famous’ poems have a villain at their center, do they? Any ideas, Bob? I got a flash in my mind of Don Quixote and Trump’s teeny orange hands at the end of the fan part, but Quixote is too likable a character to apply, I think. I won’t tell you my mean idea for a Trump parody poem that rhymes with Plitchard Poory (but, again, pathos; you feel for that character. Not a villain!).
    Probably some of the more political stuff by Langston Hughes, Audrey Lorde, Baraka, etc., but they’re confronting a sort of a generalized Bad Idea (dreams deferred/Jim Crow, racism, injustice) aren’t they, rather than lambasting one real person? You don’t have to answer that, but I’m sure you know far more modern poetry than I do. My poetry knowledge mostly stops deepening at about 1950s-1960s.
    Hmm. I guess we (larger we, societal we) have to just create our own new poems in defiance of Trump, right? 🙂

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  7. This made me so confused but laughing. Anymore, I think that’s all I can do. it’s too much, too baffling, too illogical – your poem is too true to real life and that is the scary part. I love how many emotions you forced out of me!

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