"His aim? to appall, folks. He's building a wall, folks..." Thaneeah...Thaneeah...That's All, Folks! or (Un)quiet F(o)l(l)ows the Don(ald): A Constrained Crambo

His aim? To appall, folks.
He’s framing a wall, folks.
His tweets? Folderol, folks.
His bleat, "I don't fall, folks,
don't stumble, don't sprawl, folks."
His hands are so-o-o-o-o-o small, folks.
So: how many justices might he install, folks?

His gazes ooze gall, folks.
His phrases? Banal, folks.
He answers folks’ call, folks.
His folks tend to brawl, folks.
And drawl with a “y’all,” folks.
And think he's King Saul, folks.
So: which third-world dictators does he enthrall, folks?

An indifferent pol, folks,
he claims wherewithal, folks.
His hair doesn't loll, folks
He combs with a maul, folks.
His brand makes a haul, folks.
He’s having a ball, folks.
So: when will his “telling it like it is” pall, folks?

His moll is a doll, folks.
His kids own the mall, folks.
His Hancock's a scrawl, folks.
His tales are all tall, folks.
“He’s nuts!” some folks bawl, folks.
Thus folks mustn't stall, folks.
So: what must folks do to make Drumpf cry, “Thaneeah...thaneeah...thaneeah...thaneeah...that's all, folks!"?