so nostradamus corners me in the pub and says

Listen to me, my friend…

Cometh the hour, cometh the man / in bulletproof teeth and orange tan / advisers fanned / applause canned / as he stares & stands / one handmade Italian shoe on Maine, the other on Portland / his rinky-dink cock catastrophically in hand / cranking out poison across the land 

Cometh the man, cometh the hour / a name writ big on a tall glass tower / T for the Trust in the Truth he sours / R for the Riches he devours / U for the Underlings garlanding him with flowers / M for the Mouth, P for the power / to Trump his Tremendousness louder & louder

You couldn’t stand me the price of a drink, could ya…?