Dancing With The Stars - Poem by Luke Easter
Well, well, well! Now, if that just ain’t dandy,
They have eliminated the best dancer, Brandi,
In favor of awkwardness & no rhythm, Bristol,
It’s being in a war zone with an unloaded pistol.
Can’t imagine no talent going to the finals, Palin,
2010, the mast has risen and slave ships are salin,
Mucho hard work as you practice and you sweat,
Surely the ultimate score, perfect, yeah, you bet.
Three ten’s equals thirty, the highest possible yet,
But, those voting from home never let you forget,
The one most often in the bottom, is in the finals,
Just like the voting irregularities in American Idol.
I refuse to recite that word but it begins with, “R, ”
This latest episode reminds, still haven’t come far,
Surfacing from the local church to the corner bar,
Style & grace sent home, two left feet is the star?
Yes, we’ve conquered the highest office but realize,
Almost every talk show host & Republican despise.
They hate saying the word president before his name,
The problems we face were here long before he came.
Whatever happened to, “talent” when declaring the best?
That one special quality so now there’s no need to guess,
The thing separating crème quality from milk of the rest,
I mean those always getting the highest score on the test.
It’s absolutely nothing against the daughter or her mama,
But this show is strictly about dancing skills not, Karma,
Partnered with professionals so, shouldn’t there be rules?
Is not this the main reason the PGA Tour has, Q School?
There are other names to use so I’ll suggest ludicrous,
Ah, maybe this to emphasize the injustice, ridiculous?
As our English language has many to choose but wait,
How about Sara Palin, President of The United States?
Even from the sanctuary pulpit be it a woman or a man,
But she gives speeches from notes written on her hand,
Oh my, from the bottom of the barrel straight to the top,
Centuries, generation after generation, will it ever stop?
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