O, Pence, a fearful dream, We dreamed last night.
We spake unto a crowd in Charleston,
When up this blind man stood and prophecied.
When I say blind, I mean this man had eight
Frightful, vacant eyes upon his face.
From such a face is known to come pure sooth,
And, lo, this man, he spake sagacity:
“Caesar”, he did say, “beware the eights!”
“’T’will be eight convictions and eight new pleas,”
“in the eighth month”, thus he said unto We.
This man of sooth did bear with him a jug,
And on the jug, inscribed, there was a number.
This inscription said, “Eighty-Eight Proof.”
Lo, this man had with him eight blind wives,
And each wife had with her a single child.
And these blind wives, had, yet, amongst themselves,
No more than eight teeth total, in all their mouths.
And though Our name’s not Caesar, We believe,
This soothsaying man did speak his sooth to We.
For then, We dreamed that Manafort, indeed,
Hath been, convicted of eight felonies.
And, on this very day, Cohen did plead,
To eight felonious and dirty deeds.
But We are not alarmed, We know that We,
Are innocent as pure white snow, indeed.
And when we say “pure”, We mean tainted as,
A nasty, dirty, sore befestered whore.
And when We say “white”, We mean golden tanned,
A fiery orange like Satan’s leather hide.
So, though Our lies lay heavy on Our soul,
We hath the grace of pardon on Our side.
So Fie on thee, Witch Seekers,
The crown is Ours!
As Pence doth say, when, smirketh he so tight,
“The head under the crown shalt soon be right.”
…
Aside What meaneth he, by that, We know, not quite.