There once was a writer in the Kremlin
Whose words were always dissembling.
No matter what he’d say
The writer would explain it away –
Even when Trump was Putin dwelling.
There once was a writer in the Kremlin
Whose words were always dissembling.
No matter what he’d say
The writer would explain it away –
Even when Trump was Putin dwelling.
Filed under 2019, Monday morning writing joke, poetry by author, Poetry by David E. Booker, political humor
Tagged as dissembling, joke, Kremlin, limerick, Monday, political humor, Putin, satire, Trump, writer, writing humor