Sharing a Diner With a Trump Lookalike After Several Mimosas. A poem by Mark Burrow

It’s brunchtime, so I stroll
South down Seventh Avenue;
The short walk to my daily diner.
It’s the kind of freezing air
That bites you in the chest.
I thought Global Warming
Would prevent this?
A student stops me with a petition
For a new community park
To be given the go ahead:
I can’t remember if I
Supported it or not.

I approach the Chelsea Hotel;
Expect to see Madonna
Saunter out into the City,
Expect to hear Cohen and Joplin
Screaming each other’s forenames,
Expect to see Jim Morrison
Throw a television set through
The seventh floor window.
Instead Trump chairs a secret
Meeting with himself, the main
Topic on the agenda, Himself.

I turn down West 23rd Street,
Enter the diner to the smell of fried
Potatoes or fried brains.
I take a booth to hide myself.
Trump’s extra-long tie I use
As a napkin and tuck it into my
It is 11.03 of a Tuesday.

Mimosa is my (and for those
Around me) drink of choice
Along with eggs over medium,
Pancakes, syrup and my
Brain to be fried to the crisp.

A lady that may or may not be
Michelle Obama throws me
A flirtatious smile over sipping
Her third (probably fourth)
Mimosa. Her lap is poodleless.

Staff I assume
Are Puerto Ricans but in
The interest of avoiding
Racism I choose not to judge
(One is from Mexico, definitely,
None are from Syria, probably).

In the booth next to me
Ginsburg, Dylan and Miller
Argue the toss about
The novels of Mitch Albom
And the existence of God.

I order a second mimosa
(Actually my third) and spill
Eggs over medium down
My extra-long Trump tie
Tucked into my fly
Which tickles the eye
Of my penis or possibly
Someone else’s penis.

At the same
Time in walks a Trump
Lookalike followed by Trump
Himself fresh from a secret
Meeting with himself, the
Main topic on the agenda,
Himself. Behind him in catwalks
The body double of Melania
Followed by her own double.
They each sit at the counter
Never to speak a word of it.


Mark Burrow is a poet and playwright originally from England and living in southern Spain. His poetry has been published in the UK, Ireland, France, USA, and has been translated into Russian.

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