Barack, Pumpkin Eater
I rode a pony into your consciousness.
It was neither a pony nor your mind.
It was a tank in my own brain,
Shooting down the bearded killers in Issis.
The president dropped bombs on them
In all the wrong places
And hid them under the blanket
With his lies, his pumpkin pie
And his attempt to run a country with
The mind of a telephone booth,
The monopoly simplicity of a community
The support of well-intentioned accidental
Decapitation is not thoughtless.
It is headless.
He didn’t plan for it
When he removed our troops from Iraq.
Barack, Barack pumpkin eater
Was the president of a country and couldn’t keep her.
He put us in a pumpkin shell
And we went with his best intentions straight to hell.
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