Of Me I Sing

 

Dear Friends,

 

With thanks and apologies to the Gershwins, George and Ira, and their ‘collaborator,’ George S. Kaufman. TMR offers a bit of doggerel on a day when more Americans have reason to wonder whether we have actually lost our way, or whether we are simply in the temporary clutches of the kind of person we thought existed only in B movies, pulp novels, and the occasional Broadway musical. After Helsinki, we have our answer. And after yesterday’s sham performance in the Cabinet Room of the White House, where he was surrounded by a bevy of toadies from the House of Representatives, and where the stage went dark for a brief, Freudian moment, we also know that little has changed for this President with his Congressional base. Despite a handful of genuine expressions of outrage, and a larger number of ‘tsk-tsk’s’ from Congressional Republicans, we recognize that Mitch McConnell will continue to preside over a Senate majority caucus that operates on an amended version of the Constitution’s ‘Advice and Consent” clause— aka, ‘Curtsy and Comply.’

 

With that in mind, we turn to doggerel.

 

 

Of Me I Sing

 

I meant to say wouldn’t, instead I said would

So listen up, folks, and listen up good

I know what I meant, of that there’s no doubt

So, let’s move on from Helsinki and enough of your pout(s)

 

I love America and Americans love me

At the higher ends of intelligence, it’s plain to see

I put America first with nary an exception

Any thought to the contrary is a yuuuuuuge misconception

 

There are snowflakes a-plenty who think otherwise

But they’re really just quislings in patriotic disguise

What do they know about hacking and cyber-infiltration

Or the preposterous notion that there was collaboration

 

They love the fake media and believe every word

In transcripts or videos whose verbatims are absurd

BBC, CNN, PBS, and Bezos’ Post

Are the fraudulent offspring of Gorby’s glasnost

 

So, stand up for America — walk tall and  be proud!

And let’s shit-can Bob Mueller who has created this cloud

Filled with indictments of more than two dozen folks

And call it what it is — a ginormous hoax

 

It’s a witch-hunt, a ruse, and an elegant deception

All cooked up by sore losers who lost an election

Now they bring shrinks who say that I’m ‘dangerous,’

Next thing you know, some will claim that I'm 'treasonous!'

 

Let ‘em claim, let ‘em fume, let ‘em say what they want

I’m a (card-carrying) malignant narcissist and an idiot savant

Who learned years ago that remorse and contrition

Are simply specious detours on the road to perdition.

 

“I yam what I yam,” and I like it, you see

It got me to the White House, where you thought I’d never be

You can huff and can puff and can throw rocks in my path

But you can never discomfit a born psychopath.