How I Got my Job at Trump's State Dept.

Executive Style
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Needing a job, I applied at The White House,
And when my turn came, confabbed with a white blouse,
Who asked if I had political ambitions,
And I said 'twas more financial conditions
That I needed to meet in order to pay
One Netflix a month and the rough day-to-day.

She asked my stand on the Affordable CAct:
I replied history would be glad it got whacked.
"Don't say you like history?" she squawked with eyes wide.
"Pure bunk, like Ford said," I quoth with some pride.
Which sparked her suspicion: "From where comes that ace?"
"A factoid on Twitter," said my poker face.

She asked my opinion 'bout Vladimir P:
I replied it's gone down to the level of sea,
From way up high in the far stratosphere,
Shot down by facts and wide blogosphere.
"You don't mean hard facts? 'Cause we've no room for those!"
"I meant just the right ones the prez does propose."

This calmed her down and she said I'd fit fine,
In an admin that knew to draw fast a red line
Between this old world and reality Trump,
Between Fox reports and an MSM chump,
"What's obsolete yesterday's just fine today,
That folks can't see that causes me much dismay."

She showed me a list of top jobs open still,
And said I could pretty much choose what I will,
Though "those creeps on the Hill" must give their okay,
And for most gov. posts there's no need anyway,
Like why pick Assistant SecState for Mideast,
To just sit around unless Rex gets deceased?

But I took it and at Fog Bottom sit now,
My shoes on the desk and my job a cash cow.
Jared checks in to inquire if I'm moving
The Pals and Israelis toward an improving,
High-fives me when I tell him it's a slam-dunk:
What you read in the Times, J? Nothing but junk.