Who am I, I must confess,
To cast aspersions on a dress?
But Mother Pence wore one too short
And much too tight starboard to port.
Her dress invited folks to stare
At upper arms too plump to bare.
Her belt too high, her shoes passe;
That’s what the cognoscenti say.
Mother, next time wear a Dior
And then you won’t resemble Eeyore.