Not so long ago in the galaxy that we inhabit.....
The brothers Koch, twin wizards, the pair
Put out a call to their champions, make haste to the state of New Hampshire.
They have only one goal, and that is to find,
One among them strong enough to retake DC
Solely for the purpose of kicking out the rabble in the White House, you see.
The brothers want Obami-wan and Princess Michelle, gone, vanquished, returned to Chicago. Out of sight...out of mind...out of the way
of the real masters of the universe, who always rule the day.
A whole round table of champions answered the call
But only seven showed up, veteran warriors all.
The head of the table claimed by Sir Mitt of Mormon,
A presidential specimen if ever there was one.
All spit shined and polished with nary an out of place hair,
No substance, all talk, no real thoughts to share.
Enter, Sir Newton, who just lost his army,
He vows to fight on alone, but only if necessary.
He has convinced himself in the world that he inhabits,
The little people love him and desperately need him
To toss out the knaves who are ruining their days.
So Newt answers the call with his lady at his side
Macbeth she is named by the media who hide
out of her reach when she passes by.
Sir Herman of Cain, the pizza man king
Thinks he's ready to step into the heavyweight ring
He's come to believe that he is the next great white hope,
No James Earl Jones here, he's as bad as the pope.
Rescuing America is what he plans to do,
Pepperoni pizza for all
Unless you prefer tofu.
Sir Paul the libertarian is at it again,
Says the world is finally coming around to his way of viewing
Not sure what that means, but I'm sure he will tell us when he so deigns
No newsletter for him, Paul will just talk at us, instead.
Past newsletters you see are very bigoted in tenor,
Not wise in the biracially brown world that is nearly upon us.
Deny bigoted thoughts, he can't because it is obvious
His demon spawn named Rand has memorized
both chapter and verse, using it as a gameplan
to conquer earth.
Sir Timothy T-Paw Pawlenty, Minnesota's Vanilla Ice,
searching for the beat, looking for a pulse
trying to find his voice among the cacophony of noise.
Drowned out by the other more vocal crew.
Easily overlooked, doesn't stand out.
Blink and you miss him
Not surprising, no doubt.
Sir Rick of Santorum, don't know why he surfaced.
Long thought politically dead, killed by the verbal poisons
regularly spewing from his mouth, and rumbling through his head.
Hates women and gays and lesbians too.
Black people don't stand a chance
if little Ricky Sunshine makes it through.
And last but not least is the Lady Michele
she of the deer trapped in headlights stare
oft blinded but never at a loss for words,
which often come garbled, spilling out nonsensical rhymes
leaving only confusion and mystification in their unfocused wake.
The seven stood their ground, talking points imbedded,
rehearsed over and over until convinced they really said it.
Nothing new did they add to the political conversation.
It was old talk..2008 talk..we've heard it before,
There is no surprise, here. The only real message
laid on the table last night, was to take down Obami-wan
and turn back the clock.
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