"Take note: what's Potus fear..." Events, My Dear...Events

(Asked what would most likely send a government off the rails, one-time UK PM Harold McMillan is reported to have answered, “Events, my dear boy, events.” Below is a reposting, with a few emendations, of an earlier poem updating the PM's observation. In this revised form it's just been published as one of Light Poetry Magazine's Poems of the Week for the week of September 24th.)
  
Take note: what's Potus fear the most?
Misdeeds by dissidents?
Nope! Let's be clear: his greatest fear? 
Events, my dear...events. 
Need Trump beware the Koch-choked air
his laissez faire augments?
You heard it here: What checks his cheer?
Events, my dear...events.

Apologize does Trump for lies,
for fake news he invents?
Nope! What's he do when day is through?
He vents! Mon Dieu: he vents: 
"So sad" (Trump tweets) “how Congress meets,
advises and consents."
Still, worse than they? His tweets might say:
“Events, okay? Events.” 

Trump's blackest bane? Iraq's kids slain 
by ISIS malcontents?
Though dreaded, fa-a-ar more dreadful are
events, Akbar...events. 
What scares the pants off Potus? Rants
by former presidents?
Nope! Worse than those, he duly knows:
events, my bros…events.

What fans Trump’s fright 'round three at night?
The ninety-nine percents?
That mob he’ll bear. His bigly scare?
Events, mes freres...events. 
So: what might you do to undo
the troubles Trump foments?
This message send when you attend
events, my friend, events: 

Till Donald pivots or relents,
till lui-même he reinvents;
till less psychosis he presents,
till allies’ ties he re-cements;
until he vaults the White House fence
and cedes its deed to VeePee Pence;
until, in short, Trump shows some sense,
support all anti-Trump events!