The
Real McCain forgot his cape at the cleaners
a
you know, the not so partisan cleaners that charges
5,000 bucks to wash and press the old thing into
something stiff enough for him to fly with?
a
like the 5,000 the republican superhero spends
to have both sides of his chipmunk face made up?
a
“MORE DEREGULATION!!!!” says the face of truth
“MORE TAX CUTS FOR THE CORPORATIONS THAT LOVE US!!!!” says the face of justice
“MORE TRICKLE DOWN!!!” says the face of the American way
as the river of no return swells and the floods come
“MORE MORE!!!! MUCH MORE MORE!!! MORE!!!!” says the face
as it leaps tall Wall Street and knows no bounds
a
oh, by the way guys and gals,
John McCain will ask Sarah Palin
exactly what it is that he does stand for
and then he’ll get back to us on it…
a
as Putin rears his commie head to
put the finger on the heartbeat hotspot of what
used to be called America
somewhere in Alaska
where there is no global crisis
and polar bears are learning to backstroke
all the way to San Diego
where they hear there are air conditioned
vacancies at the zoo
a
the face says, “My friends, let’s get Sarah’s preacher
onto the senate floor where he can perform a laying on of hands
and do some good, chasing the political witchery out of Washington!”
a
the spelunking tongue of the face
is long and vigorous
and lives in the
born again ass of corporate Armageddon
a
“I love the taste of
bailouts in the morning,” says the face
a
“It tastes like…victory.”
a
Palin inks a deal with a great back end to star in
“John And Sarah Do D.C.” a boffo script about an unwed universe
Sarah’s spot on with scripted dialogue
there’s already an excited Oscar buzz heating up Hollywood
and talk that Ronald Reagan will come back from the dead
to play McCain
a
the film will be directed by Monica Lewinsky
and is already desperately over budget
a
Monica knows a thing or two about how to work D.C.
a
McCain remembers his cape
just in time to fly back to Washington
and save the world
a
Praise be!
a
John puts on his game face
the one that doesn’t speak
he reaches across the room with his bi-partisan
heroic powers of telepathy and taps out,
“Add the zeros and get with the war hero.”
a
a whooshing sound inhales the room
a
“That sound,” says the face
“is sweet music to my ears!”
a
Wall Street slips away into the drink
like a really bad remake of Titanic
a
“I’m the king of the world!” shouts the triumphant face
a
Sarah begins shooting
everything is moose
a
“Roll cameras!” shouts Monica
happy to be helming the good ship America
once again
a
she is wearing her best dress
Bill Clinton passes out cigars to the superhuman crew
Hillary is proud
a
Obama
debates himself in Mississippi
where churches burn in the wake of Revelations For The
New World Order
that place in the sun where sympathetic Jews and
young black children are buried
in the headlines along with anything that might be
praying for a healing to the nervous east
a
a chorus of white privilege rings out the news
as the Real McCain flies over Russia in search of commies
humming, “If I Had A Hammer”
his stiff cape creaking in the luxurious hurricane of change
a
Putin invades Atlanta with a thick southern drawl
and fools everyone
a
the polar bears begin to bark and swim at the same time
the ice caps break dance into the ocean
legions of lipsticked pigs fly north for the winter
blotting out the religious holiday of the sun
a
as California, hugging the jittery Barbary coast
looks on and the world markets shrink beneath the
political thunder wondering,
“Who’s next?”