Panic is pickled and peddled in pints
by bobbling blowers of blattery.
Be not beguiled by merchants of bile
or bamboozled by rampant asshattery.
Your Papa can't help, he's pushin up daisies.
Your Mama's new beau is one of the crazies
who searches in woodpiles for moozlims and sluts.
She loves him too much to admit that he's nuts.
Though doomsayers splat out venom and curses
their poison will never unman us.
We never shall fear or cry in our beer
about Gayebolaghazisis Mexicanus.
Time to Rhyme and I pray to blessed Saint Croakin
to give us a huff of whatever he's smokin'
Dear Croakin, good Croakin, comfort and guide us
from the bad boogie-men who divide us, inside us.
I offer these stanzas to dilute the fear-acid.
Get your butts out to vote and make your hearts placid.
Kalliope
Means "beautiful voice" from Greek καλλος (kallos) "beauty" and οψ (ops) "voice". In Greek mythology she was a goddess of epic poetry and eloquence, one of the nine Muses.
Join us every Tuesday afternoon at the Daily Kos community political poetry club.
Your own poetry is always welcome in the comments.
Bongos, berets & turtle neck sweaters optional.
The keyboard is mightier than the sword.
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