Monday's Child or Another Long Week of Brief Briefings

     You've survived the Dawn of the Dead, Morning in 
America, the Day of the Locust, the Afternoon of a Faun, 
Sam and Janet Evening, the Night of the Iguana, the Age 
of Anxiety and the Time of Cholera. Now, steel yourself 
for the Week of the Briefing...and Godbloodyspeed!

Monday’s child is fair of face.
(The Donald’s brief briefing…? A hu-u-u-uge disgrace,

one aim'd amateurishly right at his base

while vainly attempting to make the case:

“I’ve won it: The Gowns, Gloves 'n' Facemasks Race!

And, by the way, Barron's mask…? Chantilly Lace.")

Tuesday’s child is full of grace.
(The Donald’s brief briefing…? It's right on pace

to define for the nation the notion 'debase’:

(“We’re doing, per capita, more tests than Thrace!”)

while fleshing that out with this coup de grace:

“I’ve won, by the way, The Great Vent'lator Race!”)

Wednesday’s child is full of woe.
(Don's briefing...? Doc Fauci has fail'd to show

as Donald’s philippic goes toe-to-toe,

with (Can you believe this stuff?!) polio!

Says Debra: “Well, I could have told you so.

Says Donald: “They love me in Kokomo!”)

Thursday’s child has far to go.
(The Donald’s brief briefings...? Not brief! Oh, no!

Drones Donald: “Most states, Maine 'n' Idaho,

must reopen now. Right now! You know,

a million or so deaths is (models say) low.

And, by the way, there was no ‘quid pro quo’!”)

Friday’s child has love to spare.
(The Donald’s brief briefing…? Now, Birx isn't there.

As CDC testing continue to err,

Donald urges his faith leaders: “Pray us a prayer.

Two million deaths…? Oh, well: c’est la guerre!

And, by the way, see this...? It isn't fake hair!”)

Saturday’s child works very hard.
(The Donald’s brief briefing…? It's further marr’d

by Donald’s ten-thousand-teenth crass canard

deliver’d as Donald is caught off guard

by press room reporters. What's Trump's trump card…?

“I, prev'ously, on “The Apprentice" starr’d!”)

And the child who’s born on the Sabbath day

is bonny and blithe and good and gay.
(The Donald’s brief briefing is briefer today.

Says Donald: “I’m KOTUS*, just by the way.”)

     * King of the United States

Re: En Dehors or On the Outs

Aborigines wander the Outback.*

Comes their bedtime, they’re out like a light.

One’s a cat in a hat.

Catch and put out that cat!

We can chat once that cat’s out of sight.

D. J. Drump takes a dump in our outhouse.

“Are you out,” voters shout, “of your mind…?”

(Will who denigrates him

end up out on a limb…?

Nonsense: Drumpf’s out to lunch, all shrinks find.)

Elephants hang out outdoors.

Did they not, they’d go out of their wits.

Certain frogs, tres outres,

will go out of their way

to tout only an outfit which fits.

Gregarious gnomes seem outgoing.

Often, hermits are outcasts, no doubt.

And ice lollys are fun.

(Can ice pops be outdone…?

I think not: such “improvements” are out.)

Are not jesters at court now outmoded…?

In the US that jury’s still out,

sound decisions outweigh’d

by a South KKK’d.

(White supremacy’s what they’re about.)

Are not lesbians out of the closet…?

Where’d be Lincoln without ‘Honest Abe’…?

Doesn’t Lutwidge cry out,

“When a boojum’s* about,

let the toves and the mome raths outgrabe”…?

     * A dangerous breed of snark made 

famous by Charles Lutwidge Dodgson.

Nursing nuns by machines grow outnumber’d,

making outpatients’ outcomes prove poor.

And the outlook looks grim,

since the chances are slim

that nun output improves anymore.

Lord of all: help me crawl out from under.
(Dare I spout this from out of the blue...?)
If you look, Lord, you'll find 
I'm not out of my mind.
(Out of gas, perhaps. That you'll find true.)

Below are just a few of the many 'outs' 

which will occupy future verses:

outpost

outpatient

outperform

outpouring

out-qualify

out run

outrigger

out sick

outsourcing

outtakes

outu

"Out vile jelly!"

out vote

out weigh

out west

out yonder

out zone