Day 1388, Game Over!

 

The outlook from the polls we saw before Election Day

Told us it was unlikely that the Donald’s team could stay.

Now Donald Trump was pitching with Joe Biden’s team at bat

And Donald had lost his control; all were aware of that.

 

Trump didn’t have a fastball; he threw changeups, curves, spitballs.

He walked the bases full and he disputed all the calls.

And then, a hush fell on the crowd as Joe strode to the plate.

And we all knew, on this at bat, would hang our nation’s fate.

 

The Donald’s lip curled up in rage; he wound up and he threw.

The ball was dripping spit and grease and spinning as it flew.

But Trump’s control had not improved; the pitch was way outside.

And though Trump had paid off the umps, “Ball one!” the umpire cried.

 

Enraged, the Donald pitched again and this time, it was low,

So low that it was in the dirt, for two balls in a row.

“That’s just not fair!” cried Donald, though we all could see he’d missed.

The umpire yelled, “Ball two!” and then she added, “Case dismissed.”

 

Trump wiped his forehead with the ball and spit for all to see.

Then, raring back, threw way inside; the umpire cried, “Ball three!”

“Fake news!” screamed Trump, the umpire said, “You’re acting childlike.”

“And, if you want to get a call, you have to throw a strike.”

 

Trump snarled; he wound up and he pitched again at 3 and 0.

The pitch looked like a strike; it also looked that way to Joe.

Joe’s swing was mighty; we saw instantly what he had done,

Joe had cleaned off the bases, for he’d just hit a home run.

 

Trump stood there on the mound, just watching all four runners score.

He couldn’t get it through his head that he would pitch no more.

The game is over, ballpark empty; Trump still wants to pitch.

The sun has set; the lights are off; reality’s a bitch.