The museum of leftist history is not a shining alabaster building sitting proudly on a gently sloping swath of brilliant greenery, surrounded by majestic shade trees and brilliantly colored flowers in immaculate beds. No, the leftist museum of history lays like a massive block of rough cut sandstone in the rigid locked minds of the Left. I spoke to a Lefty friend recently, and he said the curators had installed a new wing, beautifully adorned with wall hangings bearing the ancient sayings of the racist, misogynist, birther Donald Trump. When I looked skeptical he said:

He is a man who cannot see
That women are a good as he
That color’s not a mark of shame
And liberals are not to blame
For many horrors over time
All due to massive right wing crime
He called a cute young woman fat
A ruined life that he begat
He wondered if our Saint Barack
Were not a common Mex wetback
He cries the Clintons both are crooks
And yet he won’t produce his books
He made his billions from the sweat
Of others who walked in to bet
On crooked games in dens of sin
Yes that’s the business he is in
Our president he cannot be
Excuse me now I have to pee
I get to choose, biology
Is just so much mythology
It matters not what is disclosed
Excuse me please, museum’s closed