Friday, July 27, 2007

Poem #208 of 365

I look for the diaper change
fold-down table
whenever I hear you speak.

Your infantile leadership is
a baby's soggy nappy
on our Constitution, and
we need to change you now.

There is no need to airbrush
in the crocheted bonnet,
it is perceived easily
when you point and mug
for press corps nannies.

One day, you will get the
dose of formula that will
help you grow up out of
that pompous playpen,

the White House you've
made your Jump House,
and time-out in the corner
might someday wean you
off the tit of our national
integrity that your greedy
mouth has just about sucked

copyright 2007 tammy melody gomez

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