Hart’s Poetry Corner

Republicans Attempt to Buy Murkowski’s Vote in New Draft of Health Care Bill
Haley Byrd /Independent Journal Review 

—  A Republican Senate aide told Independent Journal Review Thursday that Sens. Lindsey Graham (R-SC) and Bill Cassidy (R-La.) are attempting to buy Alaska Sen. Lisa Murkowski’s support through new changes …

I have never seen any, let alone SO many American representatives hell-bent on murdering their constituents. Well, at least since the Civil War.

You’ve got to hand it to them, though. They’re as persistent as leprosy and just about as horrific. We live in an age of utter corruption, so why would it surprise us that this transparent attempt to bribe a United States Senator to kill thousands of her countrymen (to assuage the imaginary money lost that causes such real pain in the minds of the ME FIRSTers*) is under way?

[* Hint: It’s actually not “America First!” but, rather, “ME FIRST!” See the potboilers of Ayn Rand for more info.]

Words, or, at least, sober analysis PROSE words cannot begin to limn the category five hurricane of self-inflicted ordure we’re smack dab in the middle of. Therefore, some GOP poesy.

I am not a poet, even though I have been accused of it. However, my doggerel manages to stifle my caterwaul, so there’s that.

Herewith, an olla podrida of uncategorizables while we wait for The Hairball to light the bonfire of the Apocalypse.

And, two stanzas of a parody in progress:


Twas brillig and the righty blogs
did pule and simper in the tubes;
all flimsy were the arguments
concocted for the rubes …

Beware the GOPperwock, my son,
The whine that pules, the mouth that’s mealy,
and beware the evangelical GOP,
when he gets all touchy-feely …

And, finally, a rerun of The Grand Old Party — The Musical, from a more innocent age or, 18 November 2010 …

America isn’t interested in facts or reason: America wants DRAMA! So, here’s some entertainment, rather than any analysis:

The Grand Old Party – The Musical

There is a small spotlight in the center of a darkened, almost smoky stage. Gradually, the light increases in intensity to reveal a meadow. But where? When?

Laughing and good-old-boy back-slapping and chatter are heard offstage, as an extremely diminutive man, a “little person” or who would formerly have been a midget, NEWT, enters STAGE LEFT, laughing and clearly a little out of breath:

NEWT: Come on Rich. That’s enough entertainment for tonight.

RICHMAN “RICHIE” RITCHE enters, also STAGE LEFT, also laughing and out of breath. He’s about average-sized.

RICHIE: It never gets old.

NEWT: No. I love it so. It’s the biggest reason that I come on these retreat weekends.

RICHIE: I’m always amazed that no reporters have ever snuck in.

NEWT: Hah! You think they’d try to get in here?  Even if they COULD figure it out, we contracted Blackwater to handle security.


NEWT: Ze what?

RICHIE: They aren’t Blackwater anymore. They’re called “Xe.”

NEWT: Oh hell, I forgot. Who can keep track of all the names? Who are we meeting as this time?

RICHIE: The Patriotic American Coalition of Concerned Citizens.

NEWT: I don’t think that’s it. That was last time. The puppy drowning championships.

RICHIE: You’re right. Wait a minute. Isn’t this the Coalition of Patriotic Taxpayers against Fraudulent Waste and Abuse?

NEWT: No. That was the Jackson Hole, Wyoming weekend.

RICHIE: I’ve got it! The Taxpayers Coalition of Patriotic Americans!

NEWT: That was the one in Aspen, Colorado.

RICHIE: The Coalition of Patriotic Taxpayers?

NEWT: That was the one at Mammoth Lakes, California.

RICHIE: Oh, I have it: This is the Patriotic Coalition of American Taxpayers Against Waste, Fraud and Abuse.

NEWT: That’s it.

Music swells, as we cue the first show tune:


There’s a kind of insousance, a sweet little license to do whatever we may;
So tenderly yearning, so filled with a burning to play for whatever we pay.

But when drowning kittens and spike-filled mittens to hippies’ heads comes to bore:
We’re just only feeling the sweetness of stealing and knowing we’ll always want more …


It’s so great to be in the GOP
We’re capitalists to the core

Whenever we look at the GNP
It’s always appealing, there’s never a ceiling, the Dow Jones is reeling


There’s always whole lot of more and more and more and more and MORE ….


We call it retreating but really we’re meeting to tote up and settle the score;
The goats we’re molesting and parties gab-festing are just for some fun nothing more.

The real entertaining is just what’s remaining as we divvy up the whole world;
And every proud people will see on their steeple our banner proudly unfurled.

CAST (with choreography):

It’s so great to be in the GOP
We’re capitalists to the core

Whenever we look at the GNP
It’s always appealing, there’s never a ceiling, the Dow Jones is reeling


There’s always whole lot of more and more and more and more and MORE ….

NEWT addresses a corpulent, florid faced man, MUSHBO MIMNAUGH, who pants with exertion from the singing and dancing.

NEWT: I thought you were still at the kitten-drowning pool, Mushbo.

MUSHBO: Naw. Kept dipping my cigar in the water and these Havana beauties don’t come cheap …

And so forth.

And that’s it for Hart’s Poetry Corner.  Keep those cards and letters coming in, folks!

And pray for a nation so stingy that, having saved thousands of lives (including mine) with Obamacare, the medical assistance MUST be withdrawn with all the haste and cruelty of an autumn’s hurricane.


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One response to “Hart’s Poetry Corner

  1. jim

    Thanks for the great read!

    Liked by 1 person