Donald Digs Dictatoheads

I’m “Oh My God!” 
for you, Assad, 
though Adolf’s still my boy.
“Il Duch” (Benito)? 
Neato! 
Cats call’d Castro never cloy.
(Ceausescu?
Him I’d rescue. See?
My minions I’d deploy.)

I dig Duterte’s 
dastardlys
and Erdogan’s eclat.
Francisco faded 
wa-a-a-a-ay to soon. 
I loved Gaddafi’s hat.
(I’m into hats: 
my hair’s a hat.) 
Hussein’s hat’s where it’s at.

I’m into Idi. 
such a sweetie! 
Uncle Joe, as well.
The Jongs (-il, -un) 
and Kraprayoon: 
those boyos bang my bell.
Hey, Leonid! 
(I miss ya, kid – 
more since your big wall fell.)

My man Mugabe! 
(Hey, there, Bobby: 
keep Zimbabwe swingy!)
My pal Nikita’s 
senoritas 
let you grab their thingy!
The two Okellos? 
Lovely fellows.
Pol Pot? Kinda clingy.

Nguyen Ai Quoc? 
Hey, Doc: you rock! 
Say! Have you met Raul?
Sese Seko’s 
on the take? Oh, 
well: he’s no one’s fool.
Tafari? Ass! (Be-
came Selassie.) 
That man’s born to rule.

The Urbans, Popes?
You’re not the dopes 
some make you out to be.

Vargas? Win? 
Good friends you’ve been –
like mother’s milk to me.
Nor can I say 
too much today
about my buddy Xi.

Yo! Yayah Kahn! 
Yeah, you’re “me mon.”  
If you can’t do it, who?

And Mao Zedong? 
No, folks aren’t wrong: 
I cherish chairmen, too.
Hey! I’ll outdo ‘em all – 
each bloody one – 
before I’m through!