Kerry at the Bat (a pome)

Hi--I'm new to the board, and so I don't know if this is the fight place to post this pome (a pome is a rather new verse form that gives the pomist the excuse to make awful rhymes). So if it's not the right place, the moderators will move or delete it. But I thought it might give some people a chuckle, and it does comment on the themes that are occupying us all.


The land was full of angst, of grimness and despair
Everyone was clutched about the unbalanced and unfair
Repub party and its thirst for power, the ultimate prize.
And so the Dems, they got together, and elected to uprise.

They'd have to field a team with savvy and with flair
who could face the many-voiced monster in its lair
Expose the lies and label Limbaugh the pig he surely was
Convince the American voter that evil is as evil does.

To captain the team, they scouted all the talent.
Dean looked good, firey, bright, and gallant.
Edwards was ambitious and a courtroom winner,
Clark was favored by the Dem's favorite sinner.

But then they found a guy who had it all, to captain the Demville nine
He'd gone to Nam and fought the Cong, come home and fought the lyin'
About that war, and prosecuted the Mafia, and served with care
And nobody minded that he had good hair.

He formed a team and checked it twice, rallied the people to the fight
The soccer moms and blogger dads, working people in their might.
He lined them up and marched them out, funded by smallish donations,
And in their multitudes they came and demanded a civil conflagration.

And on that fateful day they voted, and pinned the enemy to the mat.
There was rejoicing at the polls, for Mighty Kerry was at bat.
He stepped up to the plate, grinning warmly and as it got dark
He cleared his cleats, and he clouted that ball right out the park.

And as the sphere arced clean and far, clearing the center field wall,
the umpire Blackwell past the catcher crept, but not to make a call.
With a brick he slugged the batter's pate,
And laid him out neatly beside home plate.

The soccer moms and blogger dads observed this fearful foul
from the stands and shifted instantly from roar to howl.
"WTF" cried some, and "Mucking Dastards" yelled the rest.
"You lousy cheating Kurds, this is no jest."
"Mother-loving crassmoles" screamed the bleachers.
"Remove him from the game", advised the teachers.

While the Dems their ire did vent, the captain of the team sat up.
Wasting not a moment, to his team he muttered "Hup."
Steely-eyed, he scanned the field, his lips quite pursed,
Happily he noted that Conyers was on first.

Teddy K was huggin' second, and Hillary held down third.
"This game's not over," he whispered, rage deferred.
"We've got enough to retake this ball parky,
as long as the chattering classes don't get snarky."

"The people are confused enough, and we have to give 'em fact,
and with our law-abiding forebears keep the pact.
The people choose the winner in this here game
not the crooked party who refuse to take the blame."

And so the people simmered and the captain gathered forces.
Of reports of dirty fighting there was no dearth of sources.
And, Lo!, the many heroes in this fight prepared the ground.
They read the law and gathered figures -- with stats they did abound.

And on that fateful day of January six, they rose
and with their trusty Senators, the electoral vote they froze.
Unto the farthest reaches of American Hist'ry their call came:
"WITHOUT THE RULES, THERE AIN'T NO BALL GAME!"

we're fighting with words. We are a way off from fighting with other weapons, but if that's what they insist on, then that's what they'll get. I's our COUNTRY, dangit!

ROFLMAO
:hi:

my brother said "pomme de terre" was spelled that way, and I think he loses, but I can't find my French dictionary. Is this a generic fruit, then?

:dunce:

planetc:hi:

GReat Pome, did you write that. One day that will be famous please put your name at the bottom,so we can give credit where credit it due.

Welcome to DU :hi: