Annus Terribilis or 2017: His First Year in Office

Spawn’d down some dank
Janitorial drain,
embolden’d by bogeymen
Febrile and jumpy,
besmirch’d by the
Marks of the murderer Cain, 
he howls to who'll hear:
"Apres moi, l'Oncle Grumpy."* 
Fowl fluids -- bilge,
Mayonnaise -- flow from twinn’d heads.
To Darwinian laws of the
Jungle he hews
as opponents he
Juliennes, minces 'n' shreds.
His ascendency
Augurs an age of fake news.
It’s severe civil
Sepsis I'm worried about.
Still, should dirges in
Octaves be suffer’d to swell...?
Wa-a-a-a-ay too late for
Novenas; our time's running out:
Ple-e-e-ease! Abort this in-
Decent descent into hell.
     * Though the identity of l’Oncle Grumpy 
remains a mystery, VP Mike Pence seems
the likeliest candidate to assume it.