One dark ides of march
When the prunes were all lacking
All the grandmas conspired
With dentures a-clacking
 
They hatched a great murder
A stabbing like lore
like the one befell Caesar
Millenia before
 
With a strong whiff of ex-lax
And a creak of a cane
they set off through the night
To kick ass and take names
 
But who was their target
This dark stormy night?
Who had erred so profoundly
To inspire such spite?
 
Twas one Donald J Trump!
He of terrible manners
Who, with one grave mistake
Had upset ALL the nanners
 
Twas on twitter it happened
When he stated, half mad
“I hear Dotty Zug Taylor
Makes BAD CASSEROLE! SAD!”
 
And for this grave offence
As was the tradition
The tri-state Gran Alliance
Had no choice but to squish him
__
​
When at last they arrived
And took out all the guards
He was slouched by the TV
Like an orange plate of lard
 
Around him they gathered
All their weaponry gleaming
Poised with knit needles sharp
and with tea kettles steaming
 
“IN THE NAME OF GOOD MANNERS!”
OF GOOD SKIN TONE AND HAIR”
They raised their knit needles
And plunged deep, dentures bared
 
As poor donald expired
The grannies all crowed
“Let that be a lesson
About GREAT casserole!”
 
And right then, one emerged
From the mob scene so raucous
As he saw her, he whimpered
“No!...Et tu...Dottus?”