A PAIR of PARODIES

Dubya! Thy beauty is to me
Like those Wilsonian barks of gore
That savagely, o'er a blood-dimmed sea
Send asymmetric Death to free
The living from life's chore.

On bibulous sprees long wont to roam,
Thy nondescript hair, thy vapid face
Thy simian airs have brought me home
To the Desert that is Peace,
The Guantanamo that is Rome.

Lo! on yon brilliant Teevee screen
How Stalin-like thy motorcade!
The granite lump that is thy head
Announces thy next mad Crusade
To Folly-Land!

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HE walks in booty, like the blight
Of boundless crimes and warring cries,
And all that's worst of smirk and smite
Meet in his aspect and his eyes;
Though yellow in that Asian fight,
Which Hell decreed for other guys.

One lie the more, one lie the less,
Could not impair the shameless, base
Delight in every brazen stress,
Of dimwits who adore his face,
Whose thoughts, supremely smug, express
How narrow is their dwelling-place.

And while that simian lip lets fall
His phrases stale, grandiloquent,
The smirk that stays, the infinite gall
But tell of life in darkness spent —
A heart at peace with war’s dead pall,
A mind whose "peace" means "killed 'em all."