Off To The Races Poem by Stanley Cooper

With the Presidential campaign, we’re off to the races
Too many horses, too many strange faces
After checking their quality, if I had my druthers
I’d vote for Groucho, of the famous Marx Brothers

Here’s a non-partisan look at some of the steeds
Hoping my handicap tote sheet will fill bettors needs
For placing the odds on such non-thoroughbreds
Requires someone like me, quite sick in the head

An historical primary with unusual contenders
A man of color and one of gal gender
A shameful long time before we allowed this to happen
Stalwarts of democracy, two hundred years were a nappin

Now for the odds, let’s start with a long shot
His chances of winning are not very hot
Actor Fred Thompsen limped out of the gate
A thousand to one shot is all he can rate

A man presidential, Delaware’s Biden
If I was a jockey, he’s the horse I’d be ridin
But I can’t let emotion handicap me
I must rate him no better than twenty to three

Gulliani’s knows New York streets and it’s gutters
Rudy will go a long way as a true racing mudder
He’ll slosh down the track ‘till the race is through
He’s close to a favorite at seven to two

Mitt Romney can run on a track that is sloppy
He’ll run out this race as a sloppy flip-floppy
Flip-floppy or not, he’ll be thirteen to two
We’ve never elected a Mormon or Jew

John McCain, at seven to one, shoots from the hip
But time’s passed him by for this racing trip
This war-horse could win in a heroic rout
Only if Rudy and Mitt run each other out


An experienced runner is Christopher Dodd
But he started to slow to give him low odds
A favorite at Connecticut tracks
At a president’s run, he’s lagging in back

Mark Twain’s Huckleberry not running this race
Instead we’ve got Huckabee, the Arkansas ace
Darwin’s theory he has always doubted
At fifty to one, this horse will be routed

Barack OBama, a Harvard Law Grad
That he’ll outrun most horses is iron-clad
The only one not voting for war in Iraq
A three to one favorite, is Obama, Barack

Now comes the favorite with whom most Dems are smitten
The only filly in the race is Hillary Clinton
With First Laddie Bill, along for the ride
It’s even money, she’ll keep them off stride

John Edwards, a well groomed Carolina Stud
Don’t let his whinnies fool you, this horse is no dud
He comes out running from the middle of the pack
It’s a six to one bet, he’ll win at this track

Straight talking Governor of New Mexico
Has more gas in his engine than Texaco
But too short on funds, and not too renown
It’s a thirty to one bet he’ll be run down

Two other players, I place in the field
Kucinich and Paul, they’re not for real
Though sometimes, debating, they make the most sense
A million to one shot, they’ll not cause suspense

So now, all you bettors, don’t bet with your heart
Political races are full of false starts
Hang on to your money, just go out and vote
And hope that the winner from Bush is remote