Caricature? 4/09

The senior senator
Stood from his oaken chair
Tamped down his remaining hair
And pointed an accusing finger
At the assembly
What’s all this hoopla lately about morality?
Why I remember back in the day
No one would dare ask me about my nanny
Whether I flew on corporate jets
Or why my campaign contributors
Paid my personal debts
No one would ever have bothered
To ask me whether I have fathered
An illegitimate son
By the bitch of a former slave
I would have taken these secrets
To my grave
But this newfangled media
And their squawking about accountability
They’ve got the nerve
To ask these questions of me
So I must withdraw
From this venerable floor
And when I leave
I’ll spit on the chamber door
I’m a rich American
And that’s all I ever
Wanted to achieve
I’m sick and tired
Of having to pretend
I care about the poor
Then I think I’ll go
Get myself a whore
And slap her around a little when I’m done
Hell, how’s a soulless bastard
Supposed to have any fun
Then I’ll ignore Larry King and MSNBC
And go talk to my buddy Bill O’Reilly
And we’ll sit in recliners and smoke fat cigars
And laugh about how we didn’t pay sales tax
On our new cars
Then I’ll retire to my sprawling estate
And remember what’s it like
To be infatuated with pure hate
So I’ll take my leave
And say goodbye
If I get the chance
I’ll bleed this institution dry