Two Trumps In Mud Time

The little headline above is obviously a play on Robert Frost’s poem “Two Tramps In Mud Time.”

Frost recited his poem “The Gift Outright” at JFK’s inauguration, the  first poet to appear at an inauguration. Donald Trump wanted to have David Duke read from “Mein Kampf” at his inauguration until Melania reminded him of her European heritage and threatened to leave him.

But the two Trump-tramps referred to above are obviously Donald his bad self and the former “America’s mayor” and now “America’s Motor-Mouth,” Rudy “Two Weeks” Giuliani.

Now Oprah Winfrey is super-okay in my frayed book, but she probably wishes she never hung that “America’s Mayor” tag on Rudy after 9-11.  He’s been living very well off that ever since despite the fact that he was hiding out in a firehouse when there was actually any danger that day and then coming out all humble hero when the smoke had literally cleared.

During the campaign he was a legitimate mad dog for Trump. He was like the onstage poster boy for apoplexy. His eyes popped like his cork was going to blow. I wonder how he let Mike Flynn get the gig of leading the crowds in “Lock Her Up?” That was right up Rudy’s alley, man, semi-hysteria all the way. 

So what did he get for all his sycophantic raving? Secretary of State? Nah. Homeland Security maybe? Nah. Any fucking cabinet post at all? Nah.

Donald left him up in New York with Michael Cohen, another faithful mad dog who never made it to the Big Show in D.C. Trump was lining up the money and power and military boys for those Washington gigs and Rudy and Michael weren’t even on the B team. 

So we go back to Frosts’s mud-time and Trump and Giuliani are like two Trumps, call it Trump and Mini-me Trump. They both seem to glory in being stone flaming assholes, which is a major character flaw in the President of the United States and his new lawyer, a man and his shadow with power beyond both his intellect and non-existent morality. These are two of a kind that beat a full house. 

I guess that the only real difference between these muddy tramps is that Rudy didn’t seem to always be a straight-up sleaze, while Trump has never been anything but, although you have to say that Rudy has really grown into the job of being a big-time sleaze. Also, he’ll never be the public liar that Trump is. Think of this (except if you’re a habitual liar): how many flat out stone cold lies can you remember telling? Not that many probably. But Trump has told more than 3,000 provable lies since taking office, according to the Washington Post. That’s seven or eight a day and that’s champion psychopathic liar territory, the gold medal of lying. 

So Rudy G. might not be in Trump’s liar league, but he’s right up there with him in fucking up big-time on television and then getting all circular and dizzy explaining it. Rudy’s this big over-the-hill lawyer come to save the day and not only is he letting his client blow a couple cases on Fox & Friends, but Rudy himself joins in the circle jerk by telling Sean Hannity some stuff neither Hannity nor probably anybody else was supposed to know. Like Robert Mueller, who probably knows it anyhow. But now everybody who at least watches WSNBC knows this secret stuff – and knows it endlessly. Over at Fox, not so much. 

Near the end of the poem, Frost says, “My object in living is to unite.”

That’s the difference between a poet and the president and his new best sidekick. Dig it.