The Year in Verse
A Politickles Retrospective
What I write I’m forbidden to say
By the terms of a strict NDA,
And you won’t ever see
Any bylines for me,
But my name’s on the checks that they pay.
If the number of voters is x
And the number who do vote half x,
I’m afraid I can’t see
How it ever could be
That the total votes cast is 2x.
You may think that we’re deplorable,
But the fact is we’re adorable:
We are tried, we are true,
We outnumber you,
And that means we’re unignorable.
“Was that Karen conserved in a cask?
Did she not get the memo?” we ask.
“The pandemic she fears
Has been over for years.
Tell us why does she still wear a mask?”
QUEEN OF DENIAL
I’ll see something that doesn’t belong
And again she will sing the same song:
Not once ever has she
Said she’s sorry to me
Or admitted she did something wrong.
MEA CULPA COUNTY
“We’ve got lots of explaining to do,
As the scandal’s far worse than we knew.
This was no accident,
This stage-managed event:
What we have on our hands is a coup!”
In your minds, foolish fallacies furled
And pretentious impieties pearled,
But you’re done with your classes,
So now all you smartasses
Must adjust to the work-a-day world.
Are we doomed to be tirelessly trolled
By a child who’s not twenty years old?
Well, then, who could be better
Than the garrulous Greta,
That grave Scandinavian scold?
NOT A WORD
A conspiracy theory’s a theory
That may warrant some careful inquiry:
Though it’s “crazy” to you,
If it proves to be true
You’ll look foolish for being so sneery.
Is it ’cause we no longer applaud?
Is it ’cause we are now underawed?
What makes Tony so grouchy?
What’s the matter with Fauci?
Is it ’cause we now know he’s a fraud?
“He performed such a valorous task!
Tell me who was that masked man,” I ask.
“Well, now, that’s hard to say,
At this time, anyway,
What with everyone wearing a mask.”
“To be honest, I like you a lot,
But a woman I simply am not.”
“Oh, my gosh, it’s uncanny!
Are you truly a tranny?”
“I’m not human. I’m really a bot.”
Look at lilies, see them bloom,
Say goodbye to days of doom,
Wave farewell to night,
Bid hello to light,
As you rise up from the tomb.
THE MASK OF AMONTILLADO
“You are welcome to sample this cask,
Fortunato, but one thing I ask:
Before even a sip
Passes over your lip,
You must put on this surgical mask.”
SEDUCTIO AD ABSURDUM
Have another madeira, my dear,
Inhibitions will soon disappear,
I will then seize the day,
Standing six feet away,
So you’ve nothing whatever to fear.
SMILES TO GO
To a thrift store, Frost would go,
See golf clubs on the row
Of sporting goods,
And quip: “Whose woods
These are, I think I know.”
Well, that was a waste of a year,
All the frenzy and folly and fear,
And the great bugaboo
Nothing more than the flu:
How moronic we all now appear!
URINAL OF THE PLAGUE YEAR
“You may think that the COVID’s a pain,
But imagine how this hurts my brain:
As a trans, I must choose
The right bathroom to use
And just hope that no one will complain!”
GEEKS BEARING GIFTS
Though the average buffoon celebrates
The much self-acclaimed Fauci and Gates;
Knowing both are invested
In vaccines never tested,
Should we trust to these conmen our fates?
You may say that this post isn’t true,
But I don’t get to say, “It is, too!”
You say facts have been checked,
But there’s something suspect:
Namely, who in the devil are you?
WEATHER OR NOT
TV weathermen are funny
And so rarely on the money:
You can bet if they say
There’ll be showers today
That the day will be cloudless and sunny.
Though we never did charge them a fee
And provided them content for free,
Our accounts have been canned,
We’re officially banned,
But who has the last laugh, we shall see.
TRICK OR TWEET?
All the hours away that we’d fritter
On Facebook and Youtube and Twitter,
Is it not evident
That they were not well spent,
That we could have done something much fitter?
They can say it’s against the law
And I’ll just say “Pshaw!”
And have my fun
As a krewe of one:
No one cancels my Mardi Gras!
If you want to stay focused, you might
Leave the radio off for the night,
Lest the words of a song
(“I’ve been loving you too long”)
Wiggle-worm their way in as you write.
Wait a minute! Something’s wrong!
Words are here that don’t belong!
This bit’s not mine,
This particular line:
It’s a lyric from a song!
I may strike you as rude and uncouth,
But I’ve acted like that from my youth:
If the things that I say
Make you mad, walk away
And you won’t have to deal with the truth.
“It’s the most inexplicable thing:
I’ll be acting quite normal and [ding!]
I turn into a grump
And start ragging on Trump
Whensoever I hear a bell ring.”
“Well, I don’t like to brag or to boast,
But I do read the Times and the Post,
And each day in my car
I tune in NPR,
So, I think I’m informed more than most.”
“I think socialism sounds pretty good,
If it turns out the way that it should.
Though it never has yet,
It still seems a sure bet –
And there’s always a chance that it could.”
Though I’d watched competitions, all sorts —
On the fields, in arenas, on courts —
Players taking a knee
Was just too much for me:
I am done with “professional” sports.