Happy Tariff-Eve Everyone! Here’s Who’s Still Waiting On A Trade Deal

‘Twas the night before the Tariff Deadline, when all through the White House,
Not a deal was being struck, not even with Laos (shut up, it rhymes).
The tariff rates were displayed on poster board with care,
In the hopes that St. Donald soon would be there.

The British were nestled all smug in the UK;
Happy that their deal was the first to be made.
Vietnam was next, having halved its rate;
46 to 20, is better than great.

Indonesia, Philippines, Japan then EU,
And the deal with Korea is practically brand new.
Still in talks is China, China, China, China, China,
Which, for now, has reached a trade war ceasefire.

But that leaves Canada, Mexico and India,
Big traders still deal-less, along with Australia.
Nearly 200 countries, it’s a very long list,
Don’t check it twice, or it won’t get finished.

These deals take time and care to finesse,
But at this rate, they won’t be done before Christmas.
Trump has twice had the deadline delayed,
It’s a wonder if we’ll ever see liberation day.

Then what should my wondering eyes now behold?
But a miniature POTUS, almost eighty years old.
He was dressed in a suit, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with gristle and blood (wait, what, why blood?)
A bundle of tariffs he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a pedler just opening his pack (whatever that means).

His eyes, how they twinkled! His dimples, how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the tie on his neck, it continued to grow.

He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook when he shouted, like a bowl full of jelly.
He was chubby and plump, a funny old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, because he was funny-looking.

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filed out all the tariff deals; then turned with a jerk.
He sprang to his motorcade, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew to Mar-a-Lago like a missile.

But I heard him exclaim, as he drove out of sight:
“Happy Second Liberation Day to all, and to all a good night!”

For more classic literature about tariffs, click here: The Boy Who Cried ‘Tariff’