Don's been handing out jobs left and right
With that grin sagacious and touch so light.
Tulsi got DNI on the spies to keep tabs,
And Bobby got Health to warn all about jabs,
The CNN guys got their pick of the lot,
Qualifications just so much diddlysquat.
.
Me, my qual's are that I chucked MAGA a mill',
And told ol' Don that for a department I'd kill,
Thinking "Mr. Secretary" had a nice ring,
And a car and expense account fit for a king.
State, D of D, or ambass' at the U.N.,
Wher'er Don needs me, like the Sec' of Bullpen.
.
'Cept now Don's after me to run Fish and Wild',
A choice that left me, to be frank, a bit riled:
"At Defense you appointed that oily-head boob,
And at State a guy who's lit'rally a Rube,
And now you expect me to mess with some fish?
I hate all that swims, and revere a steak dish!"
.
That mafia smile opened up broad on Don's mug,
The one you see bright when a hitman gives hug,
'Cause to say no to Don, or object to his picks,
Is to invite a grim tweet or a cruise down the Styx,
"Phil, that's why I want you at precisely this post:
Folks who hate their realms are what I need most!"
.
So "Trout Farming for Dummies," I'm reading fast,
And plan to try salmon as a midnight repast,
'Cause Don's told me if I let all the reg's slide,
I'm the next guy in line to at State preside:
"Yeah, Marco's great, but his cologne's Latinish,
My message to Xi has to stink of old fish."
