Mary Schmich: White House of Horrors: A Halloween-themed poem about Donald Trump

Mary Schmich, Chicago Tribune

This is the latest in my occasional TrumPoems, a rhyming account of the presidency of Donald J. Trump, loosely based, as always, on his words and acts.


It’s midnight in my haunted house —

The White House in D.C. —

A house that’s cursed by COVID

But that doesn’t frighten me.


I won’t give in to terror

As I lie here in my bed

Alone with all my scary thoughts

And specters of the dead.


COVID, COVID everywhere —

It got my son and wife! —

But still I will not wear a mask

Because I am pro-life.


I’m pro my life as president

Which means I won’t concede

That COVID’s a great killer

And that masks are what we need.


Yeah, yeah, I got the virus

But I beat it in a snap!

I’m back out on the campaign trail

And superspreading (expletive).



All those lefties bleat the word

They think if they repeat it

That I’ll lose November third.


Turns up white noise machine.


Some nights I wake up clammy

From my awful, haunted dreams

And sometimes I can hear them —

Yes, the Founding Fathers’ screams.


They wave the Constitution

And they cry, “What have you done?!?”

I pull the covers higher

And I pout, “Just having fun.”


The Founding Fathers scold me

But I’ve got a great retort:

“Hey, listen up, you weenies

I have saved the highest court!”




This big old house is full of ghosts

Of goblins, ghouls and haints

Obama creeps around the place

And hisses his complaints.


Abe Lincoln roams the hallways too

I see his giant tracks

A hero who was just like me —

Both saviors of the Blacks!


Oh eek! I think that shadow moved!

And did I hear a thump?

C-could it be my nasty niece

That liar Mary Trump?


And yikes, there’s nasty Hillary

Oh how I hate that witch!

And is that Rudy over there

Still scratching his small itch?


Suburban woman love me, though

Their love restores my hope

Their fear will save me from defeat …

Did someone just say “Nope?”


I heard a curtain rustle!

So I’ll turn up the TV

A demon’s coming toward me …

Lesley Stahl? Or RBG?


The demon’s getting closer

And I think she muttered, “Truth!”

She’ll kill me with that gavel and …

Oh please don’t hurt me, Ruth!


My heart is beating like a drum

Like when I’m watching porn

By porn I just mean Fox TV —

Hey, where’s my candy corn?


Rustles through bedside candy bowl. Harrumphs. Settles for a mini Snickers.


There’s vampires all around me

Cackling, “Happy Halloween!”

There’s Harris in her sneakers

God, that freaky woman’s mean.


Please save me, Lord! It’s Whitmer!

And did Maddow just cry “Boo!”?

These spooks are out to get me …

Stormy Daniels, is that you?


Good God, is that Pete Buttigieg?

He’s risen from the grave?

And could that be Old Fauci

Who pretends that he’s so brave?


And what’s that howling in the dark?

A pack of wolves! The press!

They’re coming for my tax returns

Demanding I confess.


They yap and yammer, “Money fraud!

And where’s his health care plan?”

Thank God I can distract them

With my dance to “Macho Man.”


Stares at ceiling. Opens another mini Snickers. Bites.


Election Day is coming soon

The pollsters say I’ll fail

At least I’ve done the best I could

To poison vote by mail.


The Democrats — those socialists —

They want to steal my house

But I am not afraid of them …

Aieeee! Was that a mouse?


The wind is blowing colder now

The enemy draws near

But I still have my power

For I rule by clout and fear.


But if I lose, I’ll move abroad

They’ll miss me when I go

They’ll fin’lly learn to love me

When they’re stuck with Sleepy Joe.


But that’s not gonna happen, no!

I never shall retreat!

I’ll keep this house as mine, all mine!

I’ll win by trick or tweet.



Mary Schmich is a columnist for the Chicago Tribune and winner of the 2012 Pulitzer Prize for commentary.


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