Tuesday, January 30, 2018

Game of the Union

Everyone knows that every State of the Union address
is made more fun
with the addition of alcohol

but this one is special. 

Whenever Trump tells a lie
take one drink.

Whenever he
in typical needlessly mean and nasty fashion

accuses Democrats
or anyone who is not him
of interfering with the forward progress of the country

take one drink.

Whenever Trump acts like he improved the economy
or that he took any deliberate action
that led to a positive change

as opposed to his (emphasis on) dumb luck

take a drink.

If he directly states or intimates
that bad news about him is fake

take a drink.

If he makes fun of Hillary
or lambastes the author of the book

whom administration officials
granted permission to acquire information
on more than a dozen occasions

take a drink.

And replace "fun" in the first sentence
with "deadly"

if playing the game
for the whole speech.

Do not do that.

so that you forget the remainder of his speech

a win in itself

but avoid overtaxing the liver

play the game for a maximum
of one minute.

This poem © 2018 Emily Cooper.

Tuesday, January 23, 2018


In now
what barely registers as news

not loving to play the role of political wife
in the first place

will now not be accompanying her husband
to the Davos World Economic Forum

for reasons that seem suspiciously timed
to the revelation
of Trump's year-long relationship

with adult actress Stormy Daniels

when Barron Trump
was four months old.

Would that this consensual
(albeit adulterous) affair

marked the nadir
and not the zenith

of Trump's treatment of women.

This poem © 2018 Emily Cooper.

Tuesday, January 16, 2018

Trump's Mouth


(which is really saying something).

This poem © 2018 Emily Cooper.

Tuesday, January 9, 2018


Dear President Trump

Because you're so
"like, really smart" and stuff

it would be like
totally cool of you

to like work even less you know

and maybe also less
of the stuff you call work
like Tweeting

because then like maybe
there won't be like a nuclear apocalypse

and the rest of us
would stay like alive

because you're like
"executive timing" like
all the time.

And you know like

don't like think Oprah
wants to be your running mate in 2020

because she like
hates everything you stand for

and like actually likes
and like cares about
what you like hate

like women and other races and like
generally people who aren't you
even like when they're also like billionaires

but also like nicer billionaires
including Tom Steyer

and like
she thinks you totally suck.

This poem © 2017 Emily Cooper.

Tuesday, January 2, 2018

Old Pain'd Sigh'n

In 2018 so far

we know that
Orrin Hatch is out
of the Senate

Roy Moore's Jewish lawyer
voted for and raised money
for Doug Jones' campaign

and that supermassive black holes
eventually suck the life
out of big galaxies

which might explain
the last year.

Still sources say
that 2018's mere existence

is a sign
that even with Trump

humanity may persist
for years to come.

This poem © 2018 Emily Cooper.