Stateside with Rosalea: A Poem
The Slough of Slumgullion
The Slough of Slumgullion strode through the town
His britches were brackish, his braces were brown
His socks smelled of mothballs
His shoes smelled of peat
His cheeks were all sunken
His breath was like sleet
The Slough of Slumgullion knocked on my door
I opened it quickly and here's what I saw:
A skellington dangling from each of his hands,
And homes held together by big rubber bands
And forests on fire,
And towns drowned in gunk,
And icebergs that broke with a big loud kerplunk!
The Slough of Slumgullion entered my house
And strode right on up to my PC and mouse
With criggedy hands and croggedy feet
He logged into Google and searched for "compete"
The Slough of Slumgullion, he laughed like a crow
To learn of the heartache we suffer to know
Who's better, who's worth it, who's made it thus far?
Which TV, which widescreeen, which washer, which car
Is the best and the greatest that's ever been made?
And whose god is better and who's getting laid?
The Slough of Slumgullion, he sat on my bed
And turned on the TV and danced on his head
As the news counted bombings and bodies that bled
And children that suffered and leaders that led
Their people to poverty, illness and death,
Dependent on drugs like Vioxx and meth
The Slough of Slumgullion, he ruined my day,
So I took out my pencil and I wrote him away