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We at the News Lampoon welcome poet Byron Gordon to our ranks.  Byron tells us he was an English major at a good two-year college and has written and read “lots of poems.”  He seems to know quite a bit about poetry, and we look forward to seeing more of what he can do.  So get busy, Byron!  We’re hard-working scribblers here at the News Lampoon and have no time to “sit on our laurels"!

We Love You, Mister President!

A panegyric in several ottava rima cantos

By Byron Gordon, News Lampoon poet

 

Canto the First

 

 1

 Barack Obama says the politics

Of old must change—on him we pin our hope;

He’s skinny, unafraid, and takes his licks;

Who cares that he has smoked a little dope!

Audacious, proud, and heavenly, our pick’s

The chosen one, more holy than the Pope!

And those who dare oppose him be forewarned:

Our words are true (if oddly unadorned!).

 

2

 So question not him, heavens no!  You would

Not question God about His every move!

And like The Lord, we know Barack is good;

America! Let’s show him we approve!

We love you, Mister President, so should

Your enemies conspire to harm, we’ll move

So quickly heads will spin: we’ll chop them off

Like France once did when things were really tough!

 

3

 Let’s hang them high, Dick Cheney and George Bush

(The time has come for retribution hard),

Then lop their heads and watch the crimson gush

A river red and warm and deep (but guard

The lust for blood don’t turn our brains to mush,

Forgetful then to burn their corpses charred!).

Barack says look ahead, not back—and winks—

So hit them hard!—let’s throw our kitchen sinks!

 

4

 Barack was given an inheritance

Created not by him; he had no time:

Freshman senator, small experience,

The race with Hillary, McCain (the climb

Was not an easy one), “His Reverence,”

Corrupt Chicago, dirty tricks (sublime

his Journey was!) . . . they mocked his funny name!

You, Bush and Cheney, you’re the ones we blame!

 

5

Though homeless, broke (how coldly blows the wind!),

We now have hope in hand: for jobs, for peace;

And those he will arrange; we know we’ve sinned

And brought bad luck, but sweet Barack will grease

The tracks and in the good will slide.  He's grinned

His blue-lipped grin and asked the Right to cease!

Still, loving Hope, we wonder: "Is it strange

This president has yet to show us Change?"

 

And so we end Canto the First,

But never you fear, we think it's our worst!

Canto the Second

Canto the Third

Canto the Fourth

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Last updated: 07/24/11