Lobbyist Poem by Ima Ryma

President Grant did like to go
To the Willard Hotel lobby,
To be wined, dined and stogied so
The term, 'lobbyist' in D.C.
The voters can be counted on
To elect like a flock of sheep.
Then lobbyists do pounce upon,
And fleece voters from pockets deep.
Elected pass laws full of fluff,
And let unelected bureaucrats
Run wild with gobs of stinky stuff.
Most become lobbyist fat cats.

The federal government exists
As currency for lobbyists.