The Golden Rooster

A rooster woke on Fifth Avenue,

With hair the color of pumpkin stew.

He crowed so loud, the walls did shake—

"Believe me, folks, I never fake!"

He built a tower, high and grand,

And claimed he owned the whole wide land.

With tiny hands he waved about,

"The biggest hands, without a doubt!"

He sold his name like shiny gold,

And tweets at 3 A.M. were bold.

He battled facts with fiery rage,

And turned the news into a stage.

A king of golf, a foe of books,

He judged the world by looks, looks, looks.

Yet every stumble, every fall,

He swore was really ten feet tall.

So let him strut, the orange knight,

Who claims the left, who claims the right.

For history laughs, and so do we—

A jester crowned on late-night TV.