What A Guy
On April 6, in the midst of a craven attempt by all eUSA parties to bribe the electorate with food and cash, on behalf of the SFP I made a different offer: to write a poem about anyone who volunteered.
Fourteen citizens (Thee Dude, PimpDollaz, Trekker Tlumac, Vincent Garibaldi, chickensguys, Henry William French, Iamnameless, LoganBeary, hoss1965, shiloh13, john woodman, weasel2.5, RF Williams, and barbarbar6) responded to my request to share something about themselves.
Of those, four citizens told me nothing in particular about themselves, four offered psychological insights, four discussed animals, and two focused on their appearance. These elements are integrated into the text, following the introductory stanza.
Please enjoy this Poem on Demand, courtesy the SFP: Some Fine Poetry.
Well, my telephone rang, it would not stop
It's President Vootsman callin' me up
He said, "My friend WAG, what do we need to make the country ours?"
I said, "My friend Voots, energy bars"
In time of global war with nary a
Hope, we strive to amplify pursuits
We pledge allegiance to Asteria
And labor to make sense of Voots
A troubling world in which we feud
While society's ignored by scholars
Generously gifted by Thee Dude
Sold on corners held by PimpDollaz
There's no respite from Garibaldi's eyes
As he considers Trekker's face, hirsute
And we outlast the past of chickengsuys
And seek to found a further route
Our nation surges forth, en masse
Towards a greater prospect, maybe
Less concerned with CG's fiery ass
Than tacos and tequila, baby!
The nameless one still has no name
A woodman, in the forest, is unheard
A fractional weasel won't be tame
Like those for whom cats have purred
A hoss considers fun and kicks
The donkey emanates a stench
Williams' thinking needs a fix --
Or is the smell caused by a French?
A bestial chaos draws the line
We rise and stifle more Rammstein
What A Guy
April 18, 2021