Trumpie a see, wints tae hae a marquee
Plunkit richt in the middle o Menie
Haudin waddins an sic, fer ony rich prick
Fit am sure wull cost a fair penny
A marquee’s jist a name, fer a big tint on a frame
Far monied fowk can spik tae their pallies
Wull Trump be mine host, as pigs they div roast
An doon champers in a couple o swallies
Fae tap o marquee, flags ye micht see
Blawin stracht oot in the win
As sum drunken plunkers, faa intae the bunkers
Iss thocht it fair maks me grin
Nae doot Trump wull say, in his loodest bray
It’s the “Greatest Marquee in the Warld”
Fer the openin evint, invites wull be sint
As the Trump flags are infurled
Nae invite ye’ll see, tae the likes o me
Onywye a wid hae tae refuse
Local press wull be keen, tae mak sure they’re seen
So’s they hae the odd gin as they newse
As fowk dee a jig, fin samplin the pig
An lood music ower the dunes it is blarin
Wull oor boys in blue, stop the hullaballoo
Or micht they Trump badges be wearin
Bob Smith “The Poetry Mannie” 2013