The Song of Lieawatha

I’m a poet. Don’t ya’ knowit.
My feet showit – They’re Longfellows (HT: Ambrose Bierce)

What follows is a parody of that which is beyond parody. Perhaps what Edgar Allen Poe meant when he once wrote of a Dream Within A Dream.

Should you ask me,
whence the bull-s***?
Whence these plastic family trees,
With the odors of obvious dishonesty
With the reek of ethnic chicanery,
With the curling smoke of many bong hits,
With the rushing of bad PR,
With their nauseating repetitions,
And their wildly stupid TV
As of thunder on MSNBC?

I should answer, I should tell you,
“From the dainty Hahvad Yard,
From the great fakes of the Northland,
By the banks of The River Charles
From a land of Affirmative Action,
To benefit phony Native American ancestry
Where the cronies vie for tenure,
based on phony ancestory.

I repeat them as I heard them
From the lips of Faux-cahontus,
Friend of Lord-Who-Ate-A-Dog

Should you ask where Faux-cahontus
Found these claims to get ahead,
Found these passports to affirmative action,
I should answer, I should tell you,
“In the distant dim of past
Many moons before the present day,
Her long ago relative was a Cherokee,
and made her 1/32nd of what she is today!

She to slay the Playgirl Centerfold
She to finish her RINO hunt
She to claim a seat in the Senate
And not be remembered as a stupid stunt
She must charge her critics w/ sexism
Call them names laden with curse
Since she lacks any qualification
She must make her foe look worse!

She to reach the heights of power
She to claim the final purse
Must stem the tide of mocking venom
Before she looks worse than my free verse!
She of the line of Lived-In-Distant-Past
Five long generations ago
She of the 99% mighty and vast
She who inspired Occupy Wall Street
Was nothing more than a tenure cheat

I sing of the laughable Elizabeth Warren
To The Hahvad Manor born
Who sent her minions to occupy Wall Street
As if she were another child of scorn
She who calls for higher taxes
But refuses herself to pay one dime more
She spews her venom and cheap hypocrisy
By the River Charles’ verdant shore

Let her linger in academia
With her ilk in the faculty lounge
Let her write unread tomes and papers
For every publication that she can scrounge
But send her not to rule in DC
She is not in the least bit just
Leave her in her tenured tee-pee
Where her ideals can continue to rust

There is much that we can do
To send this imposter on her way
So open up your hearts and wallets
And donate to Senator Brown Today!