POEM: If the Shoo Fits, Ware it

They were fighting
For the sole of the Republican Party
Treading on one another
Hiking up the cost for all
No-ing only
Too exorcise their freedom
In runs for the money
And superior races
Doing whatever they klan
However big it may be
Of mice and men shrinking
Like an elephant on grass
Inevitably tramps
Leaving only
A closet full of boners
And empty, high-priced shoos
Re-lying on trite and true -isms
If the shoo fits
Ware it

This poem aims at the elephantine target of unforgettable Republican politics.  More specifically, this poem was inspired by the infighting between Tea Party Republicans and the Republican establishment — Tweedledee and Tweedledumber.  Self-destruction never looked so good!  Of course, such shenanigans are a poor way to uplift our nation.  I’ve incorporated a tip of the hat to the African proverb, “When elephants fight, it is the grass that suffers.”  In this case, it’s a colonial and racist white elephant.  As the shrinking proverbial tent of the Republican Party is reduced to some pachyderm Speedo®, they will inevitably have to display their corporate sponsors’ logos as tattoos.  They might even be advised to monetize this train wreck by putting it on pay-per-view.  There is no such thing as throwing up your lunch for free!

May the Republican Party implode with a minimum of collateral damage.

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