I met a sailor from an antique shore
He told me this... "Out in the cold shallows
Where the pollution persists, a poor-
Ly built tower lies tumbled and hollow
Upon some rust and rocks, a slogan there
Where once a giant name, writ-large
Decrepit, now, if it ever was more and better,
A seawashed gaudy gold-gilt plastic visage
Hideous and haughty, 'I am Trump, the winner
And the best president for the economy
Where oil wells pumped, and dollars shimmered,
Look upon my amazing properties and praise me!
I was the best president; everyone says so!"'
The lonely sea has swallowed all. So it goes.
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