The hell with our Constitution
He’s made it all passé
Bush’s arrogant resolution
Is to have things all his way
No need to confer with Congress
On things of great import
He’s got it figured, more or less
How Congress to abort
The Peoples voice, he sets aside
As a voice that does not matter
Their plea for sanity, he can’t abide
He believes it’s idle chatter
He’s no longer a President
He wears a monarch’s crown
In his fantasy, as White House resident
He’s the King of world renown
We can’t recall his coronation
Or when Bush was so anointed
In his dream, to this great nation
George was royally appointed
About this Bushy lightweight
My reality conjecture
Proclaims his royal state
As royal clown court jester
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Stanley, Almost too true to be funny... but then fascism is not a funny subject matter. Well written, with good impact. Peace, Ray