Sunday, December 11, 2011

The Poetry of Politics


©2011 by LeeZard


She was breathless on the phone call,

"There was a Republican
Who lived in the South.
He still looked the same
With his foot in his mouth."

"Mother Goose," I exclaimed, "I wasn't expecting to hear from you until 2012!"

"I know," she said in a rare moment of prose, "But....


I thought I could wait,
maybe go play the flute,
But look who they gave us,
Romney and Newt."

And, so dear readers, our favorite political analyst is back, just in time for the circus called the 2012 presidential primary season. Ma Goose take it away.

They've been running for years,
2012's their obsession,
I think they forgot,
There's still a recession!

What happened to Herman,
The front runner Cain?
His campaign run down
by a runaway train.
He diddled with this,
he fondled her that,
He messed with the girls,
Like a good Democrat.



            Look at the field 
Even sans Palin,
The Grand Ol' Party
Seems like it's failing'.


Now let's look away,
And across the aisle.
The incumbent can sit,
And rest for awhile.
He can gather his money
And marshall his forces,
Prepare his plan
And count Newt's divorces.
Bring it on he says;
I'm President Obama.
I'm the guy,
Who nailed Osama.




Well, that's all I have
Until next year,
No matter who wins,
Let's all shed a tear.

For The Donald,
Who fell off the stump,
Couldn't get a debate,
Even hosted by Trump.

For Sarah Palin,
Who finally learned
That if she ran,
She'd surely get burned.

For the Tea Party,
They finally got wise,
Their extremism,
was marginalized.

For those we've forgotten 
Without even trying',
What was his name?
Oh yeah,
Joseph Biden.

Thanks, MG! We'll see you next year.