Saturday, September 28, 2013

The Manchurian President

The Manchurian President                                 September 28, 2013

Look amid the masses of The Great Unwashed,
Those beggars from ev'ry walk of life!
Never fear, for the President is here,
Tossing bread crumbs unto the masses!
Amerika is looking akin to Kenya,
Where the babe Barry Soetoro laid in swaddling clothes,
Where he lain in a manger as "The Promised Warrior,"
Awaiting his ascent to the command
Of Earth's grande armee in the spirit of Bonaparte:
As it marches on towards Jerusalem,
Whilst modeling Detroit after Nairobi!

The War Monger of lore is gone, 
Five years and so on and so forth,
And now the Change hath stood the sand's descent,
Transforming my countrymen into vagrants along the malls,
And absolute, unbridled economic equality: 
Poorer are they all they hath ever been!
What of me? What of me do you see, o' pray tell?
I am but a soul poorer, far more so than before!
I am just a beggar like the rest 
Who once dined upon filet mignon
And now, one of forty-six million 
Of the President's proletarian partisans.

Lo'! How I can see the times of the soup lines,
Serving gruel from Uncle Sam's ladle,
Scores sans a job, having become penniless drifters!
Nineteen Thirty-Two was the high point for The Asses,
When the air horns to the masses declared, 
"Happy Days are Here Again!"
Yet, they never were poorer 
Until post The Sphinx's ascent
Until an grisly second world war 
Delivered them a nuclear posterity.
And so it seems we are there today, 
At the brink of holy war to deliver Paradise!
Four wives to all, shall the good Muslims claim,
Whilst those with The Cross and David's Star
Shall be beheaded in the Square!

Lo' how the President marches forward to his beat
 Along the arduous sojourn towards Holy Perdition!
"The Mahdi" of Shiite lore meant to deliver peace to all,
And he shall bequeath to one and all through jihad
A Tenth Crusade in pursuit of a new caliphate!
One might reflect from now back to 1979
When Shari'ah became the law 
From Tehran in Persia to Kabul among the poppies,
And how Amerika hath tarried on further 
Towards unprecedented ignorance!
The price of oil is not worth our blood;
Let those belligerents paint the dunes with theirs!

Confiscate my arms, ye devilish fiend!
You shall only do so from my cold, dead hands!
The citizens shall not rest till you are deposed
If you dare to disarm the masses per "social recompense"!
What mandate, Mr. President, have you now?
No one seems to know your secrets anyhow!
You were a Manchurian candidate five years ago,
And five years on, you still remain status quo!

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