Fourteen
flushes
Had failed
to get stuff down
Now his Tower
was
One flush
from oblivion
With hesitancy
he grasped
The germ-covered
little handle
If only
he hadn’t eaten
By the
light of a candle
He might
have realized
The meal
was too light
It produced
waste
That floated
with delight
Down went
the handle
In trickled
the water
Nothing much
happened
Certainly
no waste departure
So Trump
Tower was gone
Lost to
the EPA
Another deep
state agency
Winning
the day
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