Dongwald Dump:

a slam poem by Blake Tan

Donald J. Trump?
more like Dongwald Dump
he’s a chump
a loser
a bigot
a cheat
a wannabe BIG MAN with a little pe–
excuse me– little hands.

he thinks he’s presidential
thinks he’s got the credentials
thinks he can unlock the potential
he’s got us all thinking existential
crises, our country,
our America

it’s the end
the denouement
a monument
the marker of an empire’s fall

we’re the city on a hill,
a lady with a lamp by a golden door,
we welcome the tired, the poor,
the migrant, the refugee,
the doctor, the poet,
the field hand, the cabbie,
the teacher, the clerk,
we are America

this little man
says he’s got a plan
but he don’t
he’s a cheat
says he’s got a million–
million, zillion, billion
don’t matter, ’til we see a return
Mr. Millionaire. you ain’t nothing
just a con man, with Klan connections
(you know what I mean, Mr. Duke)
he uses, he abuses–
he muses he’s done so much for you–
he ain’t done nothing
he takes and he takes
your money, your house, your hard work
says it’s his, pockets it and locks it,
says “come get it,
best lawyer up,
‘cos these legal fees don’t bother me,
I’m Mr. Millions”

put a little man in the big house
his little hands on the big, red buttons
says he’s a lion, naw, he’s a mouse
likes Putin, likes Saddam,
likes hard men
like he likes hard co– excuse me–currency
drunk on power, pumped
to command armies,
to command respect
because he ain’t got no respect–
you don’t respect a clown,
a man who hates brown,
he thinks we’ll drown in waves
of headscarves, hijabs, horchatas,
of foreign tongues, foreign customs, foreign cash
Jingoistic, bombastic, anti-democratic,
piece of shit, nitwit, Twitter twerp.

“Make America great,” he spews hate
he infects
he infests
“Invest! Trust me” he says.
a liar
a fraud
a false prophet
a false god

Mr. Dump
you’re a coward–
cower in your tower,
build your walls
we’ll build bridges
our America:
she’s already great
and she’s getting better,
no thanks to you.
From the bottoms of our hearts,
Dongwald, please pucker up
or take a seat, this’ll be hard to hear:
you’re fired.

Blake Tan is a writer, recruiter, bicyclist, tech geek, politics and history nerd, PC gamer, and ukulele player. Currently located in Columbus, Ohio, he is an avid reader of The Atlantic, speculative fiction, and Shakespeare. He hopes to someday spit a verse like Aaron Burr.