Wednesday, January 19, 2011

An Ode to US Imperialism's Current CEO, Barack Obama

Barry, Barry, quite contrary,
His handouts to the rich make oligarchs merry.
And for those on the left that are critical,
Spokesman Robert Gibbs denounces as being “professional.”

“ObamaCare” is just a terrible prank,
As insurance industry CEOs run laughingly back-and-forth to the bank.
Workers, now saddled with this individually-mandated scheme,
Must empty their pockets to fulfill a monopolist’s dream.

His cat food commission insists they’ll keep Social Security alive,
You just won’t be able to retire until you’re seventy-five!
The paltry benefits will awaken all to the magnitude of the plunder,
As you’re begging for alms, wishing you were six feet under.

While the capitalist economy continues to crumble,
Tax breaks are given to the wealthy whenever they grumble.
And as workers’ last decent-paying jobs are sent abroad,
Parties are held in the White House for millionaires whenever they prod.

A deregulation-induced oil spill polluted the Gulf’s azure sea,
Yet his policy approach to the disaster was laissez-faire, or ‘let it be.’
An oil-soaked pelican squawked, “Obama, help me!”
Only to hear the retort, “Can’t – I get campaign funding from BP!”

His supporters claim he’ll usher in a new era of peace,
As he frantically tries to extend his Iraq bases’ lease.
Meanwhile, Afghan and Pakistani civilians are butchered mercilessly,
By drone-operating killers in Langley.

When the Honduran coup crossed the proverbial Rubicon,
His fake “opposition” revealed him to be a machinating Neocon.
And don’t even ask him about Palestine,
He’d just say, “That land belongs to some friends of mine.”

In this heralded “land of the free,”
Airport security will fondle your genitals with perverted glee!
Civil-libertarians expected less post-9/11 oppression,
But the regime ransacks homes with renewed McCarthyist repression.

For the Constitution now has but one meaning,
To serve as lavatory paper to give his ass a good cleaning!
And as Sarah Palin’s theocratic hordes approach,
He offers them not a single, meaningful reproach.

A working class party is what this country is in need,
To drive those from power obsessed with greed.
And that’s as deep as this poem will delve,
Just remember: Don’t vote for that clown again in two thousand twelve.

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