All The News That Fits

An Inaugural Poem, Rewritten

Posted by E. on January 20, 2009

If you listened to the poem read at the inauguration and are finished cleaning the blood out of your ears . . . well, here is my version of it (but keep tissues nearby to clean the blood out of your eyes).

If you didn’t hear the original poem you really probably should read it before you continue with this post.

Lame song for the day.

Each day we go about our business, ducking each others’ bad poetry or not, about to belch or belching.  All about us is food.  All about us are Oreos and Twinkies, pears and apples, each one getting stuck on our pierced tongues.  Someone is frying up some chicken, putting frosting on a cupcake, buying a Big Mac, eating food that does not need eaten.

Someone is trying to make music somewhere with a great big hat sporting a great big bow and an extreme lack of current talent, spoons, drum, cello, boom box, harmonica, voice.

A woman and her son wait for their food stamps.

A farmer considers his government subsidies; A teacher says, “You pretended to do your best so you get an A.  Go to lunch.”

We encounter each other in supermarkets, supermarkets clean or dirty, big or small; supermarkets to visit, revisit.

We cross wide aisles and parking lots that mark the will of someone and then others who said, “I need to see what’s in there to eat; I know there is something better than McDonalds down the road.”

We need to find a place where we are full; We walk into that which will feed us, because we are smart enough to not walk blindly into some place we cannot see, may not have food.

Say it plain, that many cows have died for this day.  Chickens, too.  Sing the names of the dead, “eee-i-eee-i-oh!” who brought us here, who laid the eggs, chewed the grasses, pollinated the flowers, the fruit trees, built patty by patty the greasy edibles they would give their lives for, work your insides with.

Praise song for handouts; praise song for food.  Praise song for every hand-plucked turkey; The handing it out at government offices.

Some live by “Where’s the beef?”

Others by you deserve a break today, have it your way.

What if the mightiest word is love, love beyond nuggets and french fries and stroganoff.  Love that casts a widening pool of handouts.  Love based on entitlement.

In today’s false sparkle, this winter air, anything can be made, even barbeque.

On the brink, on the brim, on the cusp – lame song for eating free food in the darkness.


7 Responses to “An Inaugural Poem, Rewritten”

  1. Tami said

    Laughing. Out. Loud.
    Now. All. You. Need. To. Do. Is. Tape. Yourself. Reading. It. In. The. Same. Stilted. Rhythm.
    Excellent. ;>)

  2. Nancy said

    I took a class in college many, many years ago where each assignment was to write “in the style of” some different author. You nailed this talentless hack perfectly.

    And no, I do not mean you have no talent. I mean you have a tremendous amount of talent to have created such an inspired knockoff of this ridiculous drivel. I don’t care how much commssion they paid for this poem – upon seeing it didn’t anyone have anough sense to say, “Thanks, but no thanks”?

  3. AprilMay said

    LOL! So funny, and yet so horrifyingly true.

  4. Jennifer said

    Awesome. Just awesome. And the great thing is…your poem makes more sense.

  5. tryingtraditional said

    You completely nailed this. We were listening to the poem on the radio and the girls were asking my why the lady was talking so funny and not really saying anything. How do you explain to kids that many times adults use lots of words to say didly sqaut?
    Then it was followed by the “benediction”. Was I the only one offended with the RACIST(yellow will be mellow, white get it right) rehtoric this guy was spewing?

  6. Elaine said

    Oh no, you were not the only one offended AT ALL!

  7. Christina said

    Oh my gosh… so funny, so much better than the original!

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