My portrait of Trump is a plump little man who is a bush league Führer who feeds off his self-delusions. He finds himself perpetually hungry for some kind of greatness and like his goose-stepping predecessors, he blames the world for the conspiracies of the black man and yellow man for the stumbling blocks they put in his way. Although his mind is in the sewer, his lexicon includes strength, faith, and truth, none of which belong to him.