CANTO THREE. STEPHEN MILLER.
Up above the clouds all stained, where crystal ozone swam,
Wafted demi-gods and nymphs just looking for a scam.
One of them, a doe-eyed sylph, descried young Stephen Miller --
And decided there and then to hoax the young joykiller.
She drifted down and took the form of a hoyden brown,
Looking for employment as a maid in D.C. Town.
Young Miller hired her because her wages were so cheap.
She slaved for him and never spoke Hispanic in her sleep.
But as Miller shaped the immigration rules for Trump,
His doe-eyed maid had plans to give him such a wicked bump.
Her superhuman sex appeal got to this rabble rouser --
Under her influence he became a sourcelled browser.
While telling Congress that a wall was needed for the Dreamers,
And making sure the public knew that immigrants were schemers,
His brittle heart went pit-a-pat each time he saw his maid,
And soon he was enamored of her skin and smell and braid.
He begged her to become his wife; he didn’t give a hoot
That she was a Latina -- she was just so doggone cute!
Said she: “If you would have my hand in holy matrimony,
You must run a race with me before I’ll be your crony!”
“If you win the race I will become your blushing bride,
And my empanadas and serape meekly hide.
But should I win the marathon, you must pledge to agree
To let my cousins, uncles, aunts, into this great country!”
Though he thought the Spanish tongue was traitorously thick,
And felt that good diplomacy was hefting a big stick,
He could never gainsay anything she asked of him --
Even if the Hellespont she bade him quick to swim.
And so it came to pass they footed it across the Mall,
To see which one was swiftest, and which one would take the fall.
Thimblerigged and conjured from the start, the magic nymph
Raced ahead of Miller, leaving him to sweat out lymph.
But he would not see females tending in the track and field
Were just as good as menfolk -- so the palm he would not yield.
And so he kept on running, till his body turned to toast;
He sprinted like a demon after giving up the ghost.
His magic affianced then took great pity on his pride,
And turned him into something that would keep immortal stride.
And that is why you see him rolling still along the Mall --
In the shape and size of a Trump Turnberry golf ball.
(to be continued)
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