General Discussion

At a Trump broadcast coast to coast,
A reporter stepped up to the bloke:
“Please tell us on air,
With receipts if you dare,
How billions were earned—no clause broke?”

With the cameras all glowing quite bright,
And the audience tuned in that night,
Came a query direct:
“Can you help us connect
Your profits with law done just right?”

The Emoluments Clause took the stage,
Not a whisper, but a front-page engage.
“Three billion, you say?
While in office—okay…
Could you walk us through that to quell the rage?”

No sidebars, no spin, no delay,
Just a question in plain USA:
“As President sworn,
How were fortunes still grown
Without crossing constitutional gray?”

The crowd held its breath, live and still,
As the mic hovered close to the grill:
“Explain, if you would,
For the public’s own good—
How the math works and follows the will.”

On a stage with a bald eagle seal,
Came a question both simple and surreal:
“Three billion, sir—how?
As President, wow.
Was the Clause on vacation in Peel?”

With confetti and cannons galore,
And a crowd yelling “Encore! Encore!”
Someone asked through a kazoo,
“Is that income from you,
Or from hotels that bill foreign decor?”

The Emoluments Clause wore a hat,
Said, “I thought we agreed I’d watch that.”
But it blinked twice, confused,
As the profits accrued,
And fell asleep on a velvet doormat.

A moderator, nervous but brave,
At a nationally televised wave,
Asked, “Explain to us all,
With a pie chart or scrawl,
How billions obeyed what you gave.”

Was it pennies? Was it gold? Was it air?
Was it branding? Was it hair?
Asked the crowd in a hush,
As accountants went shush,
And the Clause did a shrug from its chair.

A jumbotron flickered and froze,
Showing numbers in clownish repose:
“Three billion earned clean?
While running the scene?
Please show us the math, if you chose.”

Then a trombone went wah-wah on cue,
As the question just hovered and grew:
“How does one make a stack,
While the law says ‘step back’—
Is it magic? Or hotels? Or glue?”