AOC should run for the Republican nom',
And hand the Blond Wonder his biggest stage bomb.
She's got smarts a-plenty and name recognish,
Great sense of humor and the face of a dish,
And all the polls squeal they're tired of men,
Of comb-overs, pot bellies and illiterate ken.
Her low age is no problem by any means:
It's like kids who lied to join the Marines.
'Cause what can Don do, start another crusade?
Asking for birth cert's and her pix from first grade?
That one's got no legs because wolf he once cried,
Which didn't work out and his own butt got fried.
And now you moan she ain't exactly Repub':
Why snag on detail? The affil' she can scrub!
The point is to win, and surely you've noted,
The Democrat race is terribly bloated,
Chock-full of women who figure they'll corner,
The female plum vote like Little Jack Horner.
Imagine a lady on the Republican side!
Women will clamor to leave Don at wayside!
They'll pour into primaries, pass out the lit,
They'll crowd her speeches and scream "AOC's it!"
Come the convention, if deleg's don't renege,
It's Don who'll be shouting, "This is all rigged!"
Ye of little faith in the bod' politic,
Have courage to b'lieve in our dear Americ',
Where if we can crown a comic-book heel,
Why not a bar waitress straight off a film reel?
Because all it takes is a wing and a prayer,
And soon Don's future'll be lighter than air.