Friday, January 15, 2016

Finding Trump on Deer Valley 2016

Deer Valley was bright and white
The hard icy snow made me uptight
It took an effort to ski just right
I fear to onlookers, 
I was a slovenly sight

Not the best year, but still full of snow
If we could predict we would know
Before we go
When the snow will come
So we can enjoy all the more fun

I skied Success, but preferred Little Stick
Way up top Ontario needed no trick
Hawkeye, Lucky Star and Blue Bell
Skiing these trails felt mighty swell

Up and down as swift as can be
Fell once thankfully far from the tree
But when you’re skiing in the zone
You are happy and feel right at home

Alas, the real prize was skiing Trump
A right branch off Ontario after moguls and thumps
                                               Then smooth sailing over a mass of snow                                                 T’was created by a big dump, wouldn’t you know

A big dump on Trump
That’s Hilary-ious to say
A dump on Trump on that snowy day
But to ski on Trump -
Made my troubles go away

Named after the Donald
I don’t think this true
He would not be amused
His personality suffused
With self-aggrandizing exclamations
And wild incendiary proclamations

He would neither be confused
By the blinding glisten of the snow
Nor by the biting dialectic of Senator Rubio

If the Donald were here
He would slide the slopes
Carelessly thrashing like an angry bear
The wind tussling his red flaming hair

He would Cruz down the mountain
Easily avoiding the tall Bush
He would pass through many skiers
Without falling flat on his tush  

I don’t have a Christie ball
But I bet the Donald will finally fall
From the big dump of snow
Not caring ever which person to mow

Some trails are treacherous
You have to zigzag around
With slick areas that abound
Can’t just fly down straight
And think you own your fate

Not berating or Hilary-ing at other skiers
To get out of the way
Not shooting thru narrow passes
Like he did the other day

After the fall, with Donald glued to the ground
There will be no one around
Without Syrians or Muslims or Mexicans
No humans will be found

I predict the slopes will bump
Donald hard on the rump
In a few months we will see
The truth of this prophesy

Will it be Hillary or the Donald?
I would prefer Ronald McDonald
Maybe someone will emerge
If given the urge
To purge the field

                                                            Or our fate will be sealed

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