The Year in Verse
A Politickles Retrospective
Their respect for the truth may be scanty,
Their perspective outrageously slanty;
Still, despite all their lies,
The posh Pulitzer Prize
Is retained by the Times and Duranty.
“America, soon you will see
How joyous a nation can be:
Now that you’ve got
Saddam on the spot,
We Iraqis are finally free.”
The September 11th attack
Justifies our crusade in Iraq.
Go ahead, G.I. Joe:
Take the fight to the foe
And make sure that they never come back.
“If I run against Bush, I might lose.
If I balk and the voters should choose
Some Democrat elf,
I’ll be stuck on the shelf
For another eight years paying dues.”
“Though we suffer the simmering effects
Of syphillis, herpes simplex,
Gonorrhea, and AIDS
From our rash escapades,
We make certain to practice ‘safe sex.'”
Hold your horses; we’re not in a race.
Get that drumstick away from your face.
Now put your fork down
And stop making that frown.
You can eat when we finish the grace.
From the looks of things, I must assume
When I told you kids, “Pick up your room,”
That you misunderstood
And did all that you could
To deliberately “pig up” your room.
Executions require certain force,
And hanging’s no different, of course.
For man or for beast,
It’s unpleasant, at least.
Who would want to be hung like a horse?
Me makum big wampum, and lots.
Me bossum the local bigshots.
Me Big Chief Casino.
Me bigger than Reno.
Me scalpum with tables and slots.
What compares to the horrible fright
That will haunt us on Halloween night?
Consider the fear,
As elections draw near,
Ghoulish candidates soon will excite!
Though we don’t want to alienate our core,
We are anxious to add even more;
So, to make greater strides,
We’ll appeal to both sides
And oppose all the things that we’re for.
Gay advocates harry and vex,
Making simple things seem so complex,
But the truth’s never varied:
They’ve the right to get married —
To a member of the opposite sex!
Though the voters decided to choose
Arnie over McClintock and Cruz,
According to leaders
And newspaper readers,
The Los Angeles Times stands to lose.
You can break ’em with kindness, of course,
But at times you just have to use force.
Are the Clintons so clever
They now must endeavor
To rein in a runaway horse?
A horse is a horse, oh yes!
Oh yes, he’s a horse, unless —
Unless, of course,
He’s a stalking horse
Like the famous General Wes.
How bravely they battled before!
How glistening their glories of yore!
Now the Germans and French
Only sit on the bench,
‘Cause they’re not first-string players anymore.
Each September 11th ask why
The best President money could buy
— When Osama bin Laden
Might well have been gotten —
Did not even bother to try.
“I was confident acclaim
Would soon magnify my fame;
So, how can it be
No one’s heard of me
Or even knows my name?”
“There may be some dangers that loom
And darken our prospects with gloom:
Yes, life can be cruel
For us kids after school,
But at least we survived in the womb.”
Poor Gray Davis has gotten the shakes
And is desperate to do what it takes
To elude liability
And preserve viability —
By kowtowing to fruits, nuts, and flakes.
And the feminist/gay seduction
Aim to cause disaffection
And incite insurrection
And are weapons of mass destruction.
Critics say it’s a judgmental story
With scenes that are overly gory,
But that’s what you’re liable
To read in the Bible
Of sacrifice leading to glory.
“Judicial nominee Pryor
May appeal to authority higher
And display legal laurels
And superior morals,
But venality’s what we desire.”
Our shirts, mugs, and stickers have verve
And have thrown the gatekeepers a curve.
Andrew Sullivan’s panned ’em.
Even eBay has banned ’em.
It appears we have hit on a nerve!
The evil with which men are ridden
In normal times hardly is hidden,
But no era’s more awful
Than when vice is made lawful
And propriety, then, is forbidden.
In The Wanting Seed, Anthony Burgess
Prophesied the preposterous purges
He knew surely would come
When the righteous play dumb
And the vicious give vent to their urges.
The conservative’s fervent desire
Is for Ginsburg and Stevens and Breyer,
O’Connor and Souter,
And Kennedy, too, to
Announce that they plan to retire.
There’s a predator primed to replace you,
But this running man won’t have to face you,
‘Cause you’re destined to fall
In the total recall
Californians contrived to erase you.
Do those goons who reject common sense
And embrace Democratic pretense
Think arresting our sons
When they brandish toy guns
Will contribute to homeland defense?
Since no one’s been able to spot him,
It’s safe to assume that we got him;
Though we’ve cooked Laden’s goose,
There’s a nut on the loose:
Hillary “Osama bin” Rodham!
With the threat no longer vague
Of attack by bomb or plague,
The concern looms large
Over who’s in charge:
Why, it’s Alexander Haig!
The Derby he took in stride,
Then the Preakness — what a ride!
Now, if he takes
The Belmont Stakes,
The crown goes to Funny Cide.
There once was a man who would marry,
But not in the way ordinary,
So he married a dog,
A ferret and frog,
A kinkajou, cat, and canary.
As a critic, I have to be fair
And admit that the Times has a flair:
A flair for the pious
Denial of bias
And for stories made out of thin air.
A librarian with conviction,
Finding too much contradiction
In a certain book
By a noted crook,
Had it classified as “fiction.”
The High School Prom Director
Knew no boy would reject her
Request this year
For a volunteer
To be the Thong Inspector.
“Prodigality surely can hurt you,
And lead even dear friends to desert you,
But a person who’s tasteful
Is allowed to be wasteful,”
Said a man who was known for his virtue.
“Guarantee your pet will prize it.
Be assured she won’t despise it.
Quickly enlarge it.
Conveniently charge it.
You just have to super-size it!”
They deserve electrocution
Whose contempt for the Constitution
Allows them to fork
Over helpings of pork
In return for a contribution.
You’ll discard any ludicrous notion
Of a salary increase or promotion
When you jump through the hoops
For those “pro-family” groups
That demand your unthinking devotion.
You may choose to be crude or crass,
Sacrificing decorum for brass,
But beware what you say
Or you’ll wind up one day
With the well-earned acclaim of an ass.
“Diehard fans are still cheering and grinning,
Convinced that their favourites are winning:
Yes, their team’s up by ten
And at bat once again,
But it’s taking them more than one inning!”
Here’s the buzz on the Arabic “street”:
Soon Saddam and Osama will meet,
But the place where they’re bound
Is quite deep underground
And beset by unbearable heat.
Here’s a lesson for beginners,
Beguiled by pacifist spinners:
There are at least
Two kinds of peace,
The loser’s and the winner’s.
They can’t see what the Fates have in store,
But they know what they’re fighting for:
It’s for you and me
And our liberty
That our soldiers are going to war.
“I reckon I’m uppin’ the bid,”
Sheriff Bush told the Baghdad Kid.
“So, you’ve got ’til sundown
To git out of town!”
And in thousands of pieces he did.
It would be self-destructively odd
For a nation conceived “under God”
To renounce all recourse
To that infinite Source
And resist ever recking His rod.
“I need your help to clear
A bank deposit here:
Just send some dough;
I’ll let you know
When you can claim your share.”
There were businessmen, kids, and their mommies
Joining ministers, imams, and swamis —
There were people galore
Shouting no to the war,
Giving aid to Saddam and the commies.
There’s no better place, perchance,
For food or for romance;
But, if you need
A friend indeed,
Don’t waste your time in France.
“I lie, I cheat, I steal,
And do just what I feel;
But, if I say
I was born that way,
My vices seem genteel.”
“If my actions make no sense,
I’ll say this in my defense:
I’m a psychopathic
Whose faith is mere pretense.”
*Catholic In Name Only
You’ve grown by leaps and bounds;
Your super size astounds;
The fact is that
You’re really fat:
Four-three, three hundred pounds!
“In confusion I resorted
To the ‘choice’ that was exhorted;
Now every day
I cry and pray
For the baby I aborted.”
Was there malice, perhaps, in your jest?
Some offense in the way that you’re dressed?
If you’ll just give us time,
We’ll come up with a crime,
And then you’ll be under arrest.
The future’s decidedly grim
For Fidel, for Saddam, and for Kim,
Because sooner or later
Each demonic dictator
Must get what is coming to him.