Category: Poetic Justice

BP replaced its principal player,
And tossed the oil spill to the Prez with a prayer.
Said Hayward to Barack:
“Old bean, get your life back,
“Head to the World Cup, blow a zuzuvela!”

Like clowns, the tea baggers amuse.
With hope, the Repugs seem infused.
But when Dems remember
What’s ahead in November,
They can’t seem to get enthused.

The President’s going south to see the slick,
To gauge what’s making the Gulf so sick.
He’s really, truly pissed,
And at the top of his to-do list
Is finding some blameworthy ass to kick.

Why should we care about Barbara Boxer’s hair?
And why would Fiorina even go there?
Why’d Carly go catty during open-mic chatter
When it’s what’s in, not on, one’s head that matters?

She’s not much of a ballerina,
And she can’t play the concertina.
But she sure was a slacker
When she ran Hewlett-Packard.
Yeah, talking about Carly Fiorina.

Tea baggers call for intifada,
Saying the Dems will get nada.
But is there anything dumber
Than watching Joe the Plumber
Endorse a Right Angle in Nevada?

What happened to Albert and Tipper?
Was that famous photo kiss just a fibber?
As he traveled the world
Meeting hundreds of girls,
Did he fight global warmth with his zipper?

Now Joe McGinnis might seem half-baked,
Though he did it for journalism’s sake.
But he found on locatin’
Next door to the Palins
Good fences do not good neighbors make.