CANTO SEVEN. JOHN F. KELLY.
Amongst the Argives serving Trump, John Kelly stands up soaring.
His press forums are run on time and rarely ever boring.
As Chief of Staff his long fixed stare strikes panic in reporters;
It makes them wish they had become instead godly colporteurs.
Upon the winedark carpeting in White House solitude
This warrior of days gone by will pace and sometimes brood:
To North Korea he must go to show the diplomats
That he can help in dialing down atomic thermostats.
Led by daemon, pride, or spite, John Kelly clears his desk,
And takes a supersonic jet to start his strange burlesque.
He lands in Pyongyang proper to a greeting cold and still;
Kim Jong-un, the dictator, has no use for goodwill.
In that land of starvelings poor John Kelly is remanded
To a dungeon cell, where he remains completely stranded.
He’s fed on rice and kimchi to break down his noble essence;
He knows that he is doomed, so he begins to fake senescence.
That wily soldier fools the docs and thus they let him go --
To wander round the countryside like some deranged dodo.
And all this time the White House staff gives Kelly ne’er a thought;
They think he must be sailing somewhere on a ritzy yacht.
Cunning Kelly scouts the lay of land like creeping ant,
Until he comes upon a secret military plant
Where atomic weapons are created, meant to quash
Occidental warmongers and all their silly bosh.
The moment of decision has arrived for Kelly, John.
Should he light the place up like the rosy morning dawn?
Or should he let the peacemakers continue their exertions,
With their tricky language and bumfuzzling assertions?
As he bows his head in pondered contemplation deep,
A rustic shepard comes along with herd of fleecy sheep.
He grins at Kelly openly and offers him some cheese,
Made from milk of ewes and meant to feed the great Chinese.
Breaking bread together, John F. Kelly realizes
That peace with all the world is surely one of the great prizes.
And so he thanks the shepherd with a nod and wink, then makes
His way back to the USA -- that land of beef and fakes.
(Don’t ask me how he does it -- this is not the time nor place
His woodcraft and his cunning to so fulsomely showcase.)
But as he tells the trumpsmen of his great adversity
They decide to lock him up and throw away the key.
Who needs a Chief of Staff that wanders all around the globe
Looking for the truth and willing hard to seek and probe?
Better that the media be fed on sleek fake news
So they’ll jump to conclusions like a bunch of kangaroos!
(to be continued)
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