transactional

Contagion's broadcast on his every breath
but nothing comes between Trump and his crowd.
He pays the few who're not afraid of Death
a bonus if they're energized and loud.
Aspiring actors eager for a role
inflate the rallies Trumpty's ego needs.
Each paycheck costs another piece of soul
and--this year--bears the risk of lung disease.
The dexamethasone that made him bloat
has disinhibited the lying jerk.
He raids the Treasury to buy a vote;
he's facing prison if this doesn't work.
Thought processes beneath that orange rug
are even stranger on this steroid drug.