Once upon an
election so dreary
as we pondered weak and weary
Over many quaint and curious rights of Constitutional lore.
While G.W. nodded, nearly napping,
suddenly came a tapping,
As of someone loudly rapping,
rapping at the White House door.
"'Tis some visitor," he muttered, "tapping at the White House door."
Only to find it was Michael Moore.
Ah, distinctly G.W. remembered it was the bleak June,
And now his approval rate wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly he wished for the election to be over, vainly he sought to win
For his second term. But now he sorrowed for the lost glamour.
"Will you let me enter?" bade Michael. "Can we talk about the war?"
Then, Michael thought, the air grew denser, stilled by an unseen censor
Swung by G.W.'s staunch supporters whose influence one cannot ignore.
"Wretch," George cried, "God hath left thee -- Satan has sent thee to mock me!
"Your clever cinema has rekindled memories of dubious dealings galore!
Even Disney could not stifle thee. Oh, can I win again?" G.W. did implore.
Quoth Michael, "Nevermore."
By Alan R. Ertle of Corvallis, Oregon
Need a Video?: I produce interesting, easy to understand presenations for very complicated stuff. For example:
Editor's Note: Be sure to check out my blog at
michaelbissell.com/blog -- maybe not as funny as the 5,000+ jokes here, but I ramble about life, technology and other things that make
the world... nutty.