Donald Trump’s Strange Brain – a poem.

Donald Trump’s Strange Brain

 

Well the scientists held a conference and everybody came

There were Innuits from Alaska and Sufis from Bahrain

Doctors from the States and neurosurgeons from Ukraine

They’d all come together to discuss Donald Trump’s strange brain.

 

Some focussed on the medulla others on the cerebral region

Searching through the notes and x-rays for anomalies and lesion

Analysing his every word and deed for signs of some cohesion

They all were in agreement that the irregularities were legion.

 

There were psychologists from Greece and Austria, birds of a feather

Biochemists from Zimbabwe, even a UFO chaser named Trevor

Surgeons from Brazil and Ecuador all embarked on this endeavour

Studying the evidence in ways most deep, varied and clever

 

The psychologists all oohed and aahed as they studied his behaviour

You could hear them all muttering that he thought he was the saviour

According to the consensus things could not get much crazier

If he chose to warm his bum by sitting on a red hot brazier

 

They brought their microscopes, scanners, computers and pens

Scribbled many notes and squabbled like excited clucking hens

Exchanging all their stories with hows and whys and whens

Making their diagnosis with this and that and thens

 

After many days of examination Chris Rock brought them to a halt

He wanted to summarise their observations and their thought

To determine what diseases President Trump just might have caught

To see if remedies could be applied in this, their last resort.

 

‘Tell me you great scientists but try to keep it brief.

What have you discovered that is lurking underneath

That flapping yellow toupee that is causing us such grief

Tell me bold scientists what is your profound belief?

 

An eminent neurosurgeon rose to receive their great acclaim

As the spokeswoman of the whole group – the one with the most fame

She gathered up her notes and prepared to lay the blame

From her august demeanour you could see she was no lame dame

 

She weighed up all her words and spoke most eloquently

‘I have gathered up the conclusions from you and him and me.’

Looked at it from every angle and found we all agree

A normal brain has a hundred billion cells but we only counted three!’

 

Opher 8.9.2018

 

 

I woke up in the night with a Randy Newman song floating round my head and it gave me this bit of fun.

In these days with tales coming out concerning the strange, erratic and childish behaviour of the leader of the Western World, of rear-guard actions by his staff to prevent insane decisions damaging to America and the world being carried out, of damage limitation and despair, I thought his mind might need examining.

I imagined a symposium of all the world’s great scientists brought together to address the issue.

Chris Rock seemed the obvious choice to host it. This poem is what came out.

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