Feel free to publish, post, or pass on Your Weekly Politickle by F.R. Duplantier:
MAYOR MAY NOT
We can’t know what the future will bring,
What health hazards Fate at us will fling,
But there’s nothing to fear
In Manhattan this year:
Mayor Bloomers has banned everything.
From the archive:
Suffered three years so far of Obama
And Michelle, our new substitute mama:
Cannot wait ’til he’s canned
And we won’t have to stand
Yet another full year of his drama.
THAT’S A WRAP!
There were high points to Two-Thousand-Ten,
Forming memories recalled with a grin:
Yes, I had me some fun,
But I’m glad that it’s done –
And I wouldn’t go through it again.
1. Reconnect with a special old friend
2. Earn a few dollars more than I spend
3. Try to concentrate solely
On becoming more holy
4. Make it all the way through to year’s end.
I sure hope that it isn’t a sign
Of accelerating mental decline
When I know it’s too late
To write 2008
But forget to write 2009.
I’m a victim of non-circumstance,
Having gone through the year in a trance.
Didn’t turn out so great,
But I’ll soon have another new chance.
For 12 months I had strived to get there,
And at last to the top I drew near;
When I reached the hill’s crown,
The stone rolled right back down,
So I’m starting all over this year.
I resolve not to gain any weight,
I resolve not to ever be late,
I resolve not to get
Any further in debt –
On this single inceptional date!
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.
OUT OF TIME
How I leapt into 2005
And pursued all my plans with such drive!
But it’s now crystal clear
That there’s not enough year
Before 2006 will arrive.
RUN OF THE MILLENNIUM
Our thousand-year party was fun.
We’ll repeat it for 2001.
A millennial glow
Two years in a row
And a hangover second to none!
Resolutions I’ve hastily made
Are infrequently kept, I’ m afraid;
Still, I find I can live up
To a promise to give up
Resolutions I’ve hastily made.
Last week’s limerick:
Briefly now is theirs the throne,
Fame and fortune overblown,
And the ones oppressed
Ever after blessed
When the Savior claims His own.