(apologies to Poe)
Once upon a day so dreary, while I waited, weak and weary,
Over many a sharp and spurious network show of spin and bore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of someone rudely rapping, rapping at the Chamber door.
"'Tis some visitor," I muttered, "rapping at the Chamber door;
Only this and nothing more."
Ah, distinctly I remember, it was after bleak December,
Aft' each separate aye-vote Member wrought Alito 'pon the Floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow; vainly I had sought to borrow
Filibuster votes--no! Sorrow! Sorrow for the losing score.
For the rare and radiant cloture which we had the losing score,
Splitting here forevermore.
And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me--filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating,
"'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at the Chamber door,
Some late visitor entreating entrance at the Chamber door.
That is is, and nothing more."
Presently my soul grew stronger, hesitating no longer,
Clicked the remote and volume turned up as my brains implore;
But the fact is, I was no-more-ing, I was prepping to be snoring,
Already knew that he'd be boring, boring on the Chamber Floor,
That I scarce wanted to hear him." Here they opened wide the door;--
Bush was there, and nothing more.
Deep into the TV I sat peering, long I sat there, wondering, fearing
Doubting, dreaming dreams I knew no Bush had dreamed before;
But the clapping was unbroken; and those facades gave no token,
And the only words there spoken were the whispered words, 'No more?'
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the words 'No more?'
It was Bush, and nothing more.
Back to CNN I was turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard him talking, something louder than before,
'Surely," said he, "surely the war on terra is not forgotten
Surely I mention it often, and do not let folks ignore
Let this crowd be still a moment and do not lets folks ignore:
War on terra, nothing more."
On TV Bush went discussing terra, in order to frighten A-Merka,
As he mentioned "evil axis," AIDS, and justice under law,
Not the least small logic used he; might as well have gone and snoozed he;
But with smirky smile he 'bused them: anyone against his war,
With that smirky smile he 'bused those fighting 'gainst illegal war,
Smirked, and smiled, and little more.
Bush continued his reviling while his face continued smiling,
Not the grave and stern decorum of Presidents gone before,
"Though thy face be smiling, smirking," I said, "surely you must still be working,
Representing, and not shirking, people and your duty; that is what you're for.
Tell me what you're doing for us citizens you're fighting for."
Quoth George Bush then: "Nevermore."
Much I marvelled as I listened, as his speech "horrid" I christened,
Though its meaning never reached me, little relevancy bore;
For I cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was cursed with such a President on the Floor,
Man or woman 'pon the rostrum at the front of the House Floor,
With such 'scuse as "Nevermore."
But that George Bush, standing lonely on that little stage spoke only
Blather, as though his soul could only talking points outpour.
Nothing further did he utter; there was no fuss and was no flutter;
'Till I scarcely could help mutter, "This country's friend you are no more;
In three years I hope you'll leave me, I can't wait no longer for
Being rid of "Nevermore."
Startled at the peace he'd broken by reply so badly spoken,
"Doubtless," said I, "what he utters is his only stock and store,
Who else could say "Medicaid" and smile wide as the dirges played,
Forgotten ones and ones with AIDS suffered, fought their own hopeless war,
'Till their hope died and, abandoned, faced upon his long-closed door.
Would he help them? "Nevermore."
But never fear, you lost and helpless 'pending on his skills and talents
Don't lose heart; his war on terror will drain you all still more;
Even while you're weeping, crying, he'll take our cash and start more spying,
Spying, prying, lying, and to Iran he'll send the Corps
He'll give you this, and nothing more.
This, I'm 'fraid, was the one lesson of that hour he spent addressin',
Addressin' this great nation which he's caused many to abhor.
If you're low or if you're hurtin', if you are not Halliburton,
If you're needy, he won't help you, 'cause you're simply poor.
Bush won't help you. "Nevermore."