The Thirteenth Floor

There was a time a building would not have a numbered thirteenth floor, but designate the floor directly above the twelfth floor the fourteenth. So it was with an elderly building in Newark, New Jersey, except this building does indeed have a thirteenth floor, accessible only to the national and international establishment political and economic elite, who meet in the palatial suites of the non-existent thirteenth floor in times of crisis. To all appearances there is no thirteenth floor, no elevator stop for a thirteenth floor, but just off the lobby, at the far end of a narrow and dimly lit corridor containing toilet rooms and utility spaces, there is a locked door marked Electrical Closet, Do Not Enter. Yet, if one has the proper key, one can open the door and step into an elevator that will take you directly to the thirteenth floor. Which is what a man from a certain city on the Great Lakes has just done. The room quieted as the man entered, for they were waiting for him. On everyone’s mind was the question, What do we do about Trump.

The man accepts a glass of wine
Yet sips it not, for time was late
He said results from Florida
Have shown the nature of their fate
It’s Donald Trump
Another cried he can’t be stopped
Sweat beading large upon his brow
He is not owned, he’s not of us
Stop him we must, but tell us how
To stop this Trump
There is a man, the first man said
Who’s very quick and sharp of eye
A word from us and he will come
And after, many men will cry
For Donald Trump
But we shall keep the reins in hand
This fellow will not shape our will
The GOP establishment
Will see to it the man is still
This Donald Trump
But they have tried, another sobbed
And all have fallen by the way
The voters have now made it clear
That it’s all over from today
Blast Donald Trump!
The media, the first man said
So quietly that no one heard
Though all the lies they mean to tell
The people won’t believe a word
They say ‘bout Trump
What can we do, they cried at last
He’ll break our rice bowls from the start
No more the graft, the gravy stops
Our friends in Congress will lose heart
Damn Donald Trump!
This time we’ve lost, the first man said
But bide our time and we shall rise
But he was wrong, for it all ends
At the firm hands, to no surprise
Of Donald Trump

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