The poet William Stafford set himself the task of writing a poem a day. When someone asked him what he would do when his poem-of-the-day wasn't very good, he replied "I simply lower my standards." In order to increase output, the bar here is set at a low level - the point of this is to have some fun with current events and politics. I welcome contributions and comments. Now you can also follow Doggerelo on Twitter (@doggerelo). Because of continuing medical problems, I'm no longer able to post a poem-a-day. I'll continue to post poems, but at a reduced frequency, so please stay tuned.

Saturday, January 14, 2012

Obama the Sly

Monica Crowley, Ph.D., speaking on the O’Reilly Factor the other night, presented her theory that the Occupy Wall Street movement was “orchestrated” to “provide President Obama with a major campaign theme”, namely income inequality. Several lines in Scene I were lifted from Coriolanus.

Scene I. New York.  A park.

    Enter a company of mutinous citizens, with tents and drums.

First Citizen.

We, the 99 percent, are accounted
Poor citizens for here we gather to protest
The leaness that afflicts us.  The one percent
Are by themselves accounted good and say
We slander the helms o' the state, who care for us
Like fathers. 

Second Citizen.

                       Care for us! They ne'er cared for us
Yet: suffer us to famish, and their store-houses
Crammed with grain; repeal daily any wholesome act
Established against the rich; and provide more
Piercing statutes daily, to chain up and restrain
The poor. If the wars eat us not up, they will; and
There's all the love they bear us.
     Exeunt stage left.

Scene II.  The Oval Office

     Enter President Obama with Lady Pelosi


Our plan doth proceed apace.  Already have they
Divided our citizenry into the one percent
Who hath much and the ninety-nine who hath much less,
And thus resentment riseth and attach itself,
As I foretold, to Lord Romney, the knave
Who would my place in this round office take.


But how didst thou orchestrate this scene?
It doth seem to me very like the herding of cats.


Aye, it were no easy task, but the details
Of this I must retain for my own counsel
For I fear much that word of our guiding hand
In this will leak to Lady Crowley, PhD,
Who hath, as thou knowest, oft revealed
My darkest and most secret machinations.


Yes, she hath disclosed, as I recall, the message
Thou sendest to David of Axelrod through the play
that Robert Scheiffer did perform before the nation.
That was wondrous shrewd and cunning, and yet..


And yet she did expose my part in it
To all who had ears to heed her rantings.
And she did also bring to light my hand
In making a loathsome and repugnant thing
Of a cheeseburger that she was wont to eat.
I believe a mole must lurk within my staff
That doth inform the wench of my very thoughts.


Dost thou think that she hath gotten wind
Of thy secret plan to turn this hapless land,
Rife with venturing capitalists like Lord Romney
Who doth themselves too much enrich
While casting workers into penury,
To make of it a socialistic state?


Thou must not speak of such things, even here
Within my office, for there are those who might
Thee overhear and sound alarums that
Would all my plans undo.  We must content
Ourselves with signs most subtle – winks, nods
And crossèd fingers - and with flow’ry words
Pay full service of the lip to free enterprise,
While our true thoughts we hold in deep disguise. 

1 comment:

Dag Pennington said...

You are so damn clever, John..... Also the blah noir. How can we get you a bigger audience??? Dag