It’s quite a show but not quite a debate
When two men battle to be head of state.
The old dog growls and snaps at the young pup
And tries to make him drink the loser’s cup.
The youngster only has to stand beside him
To point up how the years have ossified him.
And both of them lie on their backs and purr
Just to be stroked by Henry Kissinger.
(Or did they do the stroking? Hard to tell.
But either way, they both give off his smell.)
Meanwhile, beneath those fearful pheromones,
They’re each wearing their signature colognes.
Obama’s deferential and McCain
Looks like he’s suffering from denture pain
And wants to blame it on this pompous dunce
Whom he will never even look at once.
“The Senator,” he sneers, “misunderstands.”
(He’d slap Barack if he could raise his hands.)
Obama, gentlemanly and polite,
Keeps saying “Yes, the Senator is right,”
And you can hear the sound across the land
Of liberal forehead smacked by liberal hand.
“Don’t tell him that he’s right, you undergrad –-
He’ll clip it out into a TV ad
And make you look like Illinois’ prize boob!”
(Ten minutes later, it’s up on YouTube.)
This is the style of Arizona’s boy --
He answers every question with a ploy.
McCain’s idea of “think outside the box?”
A running mate who stumbles when she talks.
McCain’s most recent stunt? Beyond the pale.
It only needs four lines to tell the tale:
“Fuck you –- I’m being Presidential here.”
“Fuck Congress and their bailout bill of fear.”
“Fuck the debates -– I heed a higher call!”
“Fuck it –- I guess I’ll show up after all.”
And there he is repeating the refrain
That his last name is Maverick, not McCain.
Each time he speaks, he opens up again
The canyon that divides the Now from Then –-
THEN: shopped like mad at an exclusive store.
NOW: claims he never set foot in the door.
THEN: thirty years of showers at the club.
NOW: “No no no -– I took baths in my tub!”
THEN: chauffered in a limo everywhere.
NOW: “No –- I walked. I walked because I CARE!”
THEN: honest, loyal, faithful as a nun.
NOW: "My mistake –- that was wife #1."
There are so many ways you can make fun of ‘im.
Obama doesn’t try a single one of ‘em.
He’d rather make a cogent point instead
Which is like writing DOORMAT on your head --
Upon which, just to make the scene complete,
McCain obligingly wipes off his feet.
And when the posturing is all but done,
Both men will say “He lost –- which means I won!”
They will go back to their safe campaign bubble
Where deviation from the script spells trouble.
They’ll preach to the converted, and (like God)
Make promises the faithful will applaud.
They’ll lick their wounds and plan impromptu jests,
Give speeches to increase their campaign chests,
And face off two more times before we vote:
Donkey v Elephant, with us the goat.