"In the Beginning,...
Darkness was upon the face of the Deep",
God answered the question of which came first,
The chainsaw or the brush.
The meanest buzz in a generation
Was you, George, the Great Saw in motion,
An omen just like smoke when you whacked it,
A simple bough in your throbbing hands
In the treacherous, dark, damned brush.
Nixon never knew from the thicket, that Quaker boy,
Cocaine from the skidmarks your nostrils left,
The dust on a damsel's breast.
Tragic praise made you stronger,
Like a boy who has come home at last with guile,
Pretending to be the prodigal son,
Whose father rips after him with a pitchfork,
Across the pasture, deep into the brambles.
Ah, those were the formative years!
To make insanity seem painless,
You smiled with some effort.
Vice President "Shooter" Cheney and you
Were the other Rumsfeld, in the law firm
Of Rumsfeld and Rumsfeld, from that time
Forward, the Ober
Kinder-Slapping Fuhrer,
Who laid plans to nuke Iran.
Let us chisel your brow upside-down. Bubba Bush;
Mount Rushmore demands a sign, Bubba Bush,
For this world that must wear a shroud,
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