Dave Tanguay

Rookie (Nov.8,1948 / Westbrook, Maine)

Another Election Rolls Around In The Good Old U.S.A. - Poem by Dave Tanguay

Another election year coming around, politicians again are
Practicing their smile
They want our vote they’ll promise us the world will be at our
Yes, they’ll shake our hands, pat our backs, and truly walk the Additional mile
Their opponent they say is no damn good, only they can truly Understand

Speeches delivered with so much commitment, they really have
Us all under their spell
They have us believing they are the one; they certainly wouldn’t
Kiss my baby and lie with those, same tender lips.
Cheering them on waving frantically they bring back the sound
Of the old liberty bell
O.K. they’ve won me over, calm down now relax - I’ve got to come
To grips

Election Day has arrived I’m the first one at the poles, this one I
Trust and without hesitation I cast my vote
Driving to work, I sing a tune and offer a prayer my man will come through as the winner
After my day’s work is through at home, the local news declares
Him the victor - time to relax and unwind - yes this victory is worth Another tote.
Before I retire to my bed - I’ll celebrate - and my wife and I will go
Out to dinner

Four years later

The man I cast my vote for on that November day four years ago.
The man I had no doubt would come through
All those promises of a brighter future, health care, lower taxes,
And a Social security plan
Were carried out indeed - he lives in a mansion, pays no taxes,
And has a million dollar retirement plan, all his dreams have
Come true
All he accomplished legally, was stop my weed, for no taxes were Collected, so the pot he did ban

But wait this is another election year, he has made his fortune of
The backs of us fools
Now he can travel at government expense live the rest of his life
On the taxpayer’s tab
They’ll be another one to take his place, with fresh ideas, offering
Us all new hope, he learned In all those elite and formal schools
They say it’s the American way, but this time I’ll grab my bedroll
And hang on to my bankroll, I won’t listen again to all that political

I’ll live on the streets with all of the honest bums, and thieves that tell You were their comin from
I won’t be fooled again by some sleazy smooth talking politician who Truly belongs in cage
I’ll take my chances with those who only steal to stay alive, on the
Outskirts of the jungle where to live by rules to the politicians you
Must succumb
Today’s society is free for all, you have it all until you reach what
They call - the voting age
And the Lord said 'Let there be voters, and all the fish arose from the sea'


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Poem Submitted: Wednesday, August 29, 2007

Poem Edited: Saturday, April 2, 2011

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