The Year in Verse
A Politickles Retrospective
I’m amazed when the year’s finally through
At the things that I’ve managed to do,
But I can’t understand
Why the things that I planned
Are the things that I never got to.
If you find “Frohliche Weihnachten” odd,
“Buon Natale” and “Feliz Navidad,”
Even “Joyeux Noel”
Unfamiliar as well,
“Merry Christmas” should then get the nod.
Oops! She did it again unawares!
And she never expected such stares!
Every nut on the Net
Is now Googling to get
His own gander at poor Britney’s pears!
As a theory it’s cheesily charming,
Except when the neighborhood’s swarming
With snow, sleet, and ice
From unfair Fahrenheits,
And we’re longing for real global warming.
Disagreements are sometimes distilled
And desires of both parties fulfilled;
But, if you’re disputin’
With Vladimir Putin,
You’re liable to get yourself killed.
With the turkey and trimmings procured,
Our Thanksgiving repast is assured,
But it won’t be complete
‘Til we sit down to eat
And the family’s as stuffed as the bird.
As the days drift toward 2008,
Hillary hopes for a fabulous fate:
All she needs is a goat
Who can split up the vote
As a third-party sham candidate.
We the People, as proper patricians,
Must take blame for prevailing conditions;
We’ve no right to abuse
Public servants we choose:
We’re as bad as our bad politicians.
I was busy on balloting day,
But still wanted to have my own say:
I dispatched my new clone,
Who’s a mind of his own,
And he voted the opposite way!
What do liberals and feminists say
About women exploited today?
They say, “Women are hens,
So let’s keep them in pens
To collect all the eggs that they lay.”
When a Democrat comes to the fore,
We will wonder who’s minding the store:
When a Democrat’s president,
He will prove himself hesitant
To abide by the oath that he swore.
What began as an ill-advised craze
To authenticate “tolerant” ways
Has got way out of hand
And now needs to be banned:
The Republican courting of “gays.”
In both Parties you’ll find creep and crank,
Even some who are thoroughly rank,
But Republicans wholly
Have disavowed Foley,
While the Democrats laud Barney Frank.
“Chris, you knew I would fiercely deny,
Obfuscate, reinterpret, decry
Your outrageous assertion
That I might be a person
Who would ever be caught in a lie.”
“Western nations will suffer and bleed
Until all of their peoples concede
That the faith of our lord,
Although spread by the sword,
Is in essence a peace-loving creed.”
“We’ve done all we could possibly do
To incorporate your point of view!”
“Oh, I know,” said blythe Bill,
“But I’m wondering still,
Could you please make your movie less true?”
Nine-Eleven enlivened our actions
And completely dispersed our distractions:
For the briefest duration
We were truly one nation,
Then we quickly conformed to our factions.
“Good Lord, will you give us a break?
There’s a limit to what we can take.
Now Ernesto appears
And revives all our fears
Of the difference that single days make!”
For Bill Clinton, it just isn’t fair
That donations be in good repair:
What to do with worn socks,
Dirty hankies and jocks,
And his raggedy old underwear?
Cuba’s future’s no longer in doubt.
Little brother Raul has no clout.
Listen close and you’ll hear
The unutterable cheer.
Fidel Castro is on his way out!
The reporter today never loiters,
But from dawn until dusk reconnoiters.
As the media get speedier,
Some are bound to grow seedier,
As we’ve seen with the Times and with Reuters.
“We deny every adverse condition
That can lead to demise or perdition:
Although tourists may die,
We’re committed to lie,
‘Cause we work for the Tourist Commission.”
Can we not make hostilities cease,
Or inspire some substantial decrease?
What if everyone good
Did the one thing he could
And beseeched the Almighty for peace?
While it has been unseasonably hot,
And I do tend to wish it were not,
I am glad to save gas
By not cutting the grass,
‘Cause there’s none on my shriveled-up lot.
Jimmy Carter had his brother Billy.
Roger Clinton was equally silly.
Wait ’til Tony and Hugh
Show what Rodhams can do
As the brothers of President Hilly!
I attend every fireworks show
With the spirits of men you may know:
Adams, Madison, and Monroe.
With so much of the world in dire straits,
Even we with our meager estates
Should each do what we can
To relieve Fellow Man:
Let’s give all that we have to Bill Gates!
Al Gore worries the world’s getting hot,
And all over the globe he will trot,
Warmly warning the masses
About grave greenhouse gases
Caused by people who travel a lot.
The third Sunday in June will be gray
For the sons and the daughters who may
Not remember the dad
That they never quite had
‘Cause he left them and went far away.
William Jefferson struggled to hide
Every trace of his larcenous side,
While Katrina touched down
And destroyed the whole town
And constituents suffered and died.
“Would you like to see Robert Browning?”
I asked my consort, clowning.
“Then grab a seat
While I sear this meat,
And you shall see Robert browning.
For no additional cost,
I’ll simply bake
And trim a cake,
And you shall see Robert frost.”
There’s no doubt Jesus Christ has a son
And a daughter, and more than just one:
‘Cause his children, you see,
Are mere mortals like me
Who believe our new lives have begun.
“We bought goofy games to play
And weird-smelling modeling clay,
Plus lots of toys
That make loud noise,
To give Mom on Mother’s Day.”
“Oh, the crashes he has had!
He’s the poster child for MADD!
He staggers away
And doesn’t pay!
How I want to be like Dad!”
A young Mexican lad pays the fee
For his first baseball game eagerly,
Then the flagpole he climbs
For a view more sublime
And the crowd sings, ‘José, can you see?”
“There is simply no way we can win,
And there’s nothing to do but give in:
With a blood-curdling shout,
All the schools will let out
And the summer vacations begin.”
Every Spring they start their swarming
And fantastical alarming,
Fearing and oh-dearing
That the end is nearing,
‘Cause it’s April and it’s warming.
Our bureaucracies do us disservice
When they try to coerce and unnerve us;
We must bring to an end
What no one can defend:
The Internal Revenue Service.
Most unwelcome at the tees:
Caddies who have allergies.
It’s a certain thing
When you start to swing
That they’ll break out with a sneeze!
I tried to please my daddy,
Who said, “Watch your language, laddie.”
But my speech grew worse
When I learned to curse
Working summers as a caddy.
Deny it though they may,
They speak English anyway;
And when they’re through,
They say, “Say two,”
And sometimes, “Bunny day!”
It’s not a big “faux pas”
When we say, “Oh, la la!”
Or “laissez faire,”
Or Happy “Mardi Gras!”
There is something that bothers my brain
When I scan John McCaslin’s name;
I delete s and l
And the remnants repel:
John McCaslin is now John McCain!
“I’m nothing,” said John, “if not cunning,”
Before an upset that was stunning,
“And, now that I see
No one’s voting for me,
I’ll pretend that I’m not even running.”
There are some who will say that I’m narrow,
But I’m glad from the depths of my marrow:
The Best Actor award,
Being held in regard
Did not go to a gay caballero.
At the airport they search you and me,
But what harm can there possibly be
In having our ports
Controlled by the sports
Who reside in the U.A.E.?
If freedom can come to Romanians,
Albanians, Lithuanians, Ukrainians,
Why must others abide
While their freedom’s denied:
Brother Syrians, Saudis, Iranians?
You’re unnerved when you cannot foresee
What the answers to questions might be,
But you’re up to the task,
Take a deep breath and ask:
“Darling, please, will you marry me?”
The perfect time to dine
Was Sunday six to nine:
Every other soul
Was watching the Bowl
And we didn’t stand in line.
I tuned into the last Super Bowl
Just before all the rigamarole:
For a moment to revel
As I heard Aaron Neville
Sing the anthem with singular soul.
We’ve had “free” love and all of the rest;
Other options were put to the test.
Now we see in the light
Benedict has it right
When he says “Deus caritas est.”
What flavor’s my former abode?
Is it Chocolate, as Ray Nagin crowed?
When I really take stock of it,
I find it’s not Chocolate:
The flavor instead’s Rocky Road.
He can always be trusted for this:
When the words that he utters are his,
Old Uncle Walter
Is likely to falter —
And that is the way that it is.
We have graft and corruption again,
Just as they did way back when —
And somewhere the progenies
Of the Ancient Diogenes
Are still striving to find honest men.
Though the beef-eating libertarian
Prefers Conan the incumbent Barbarian,
It’s Warren the Red
Who’s favored instead
By the left-leaning vegetarian.