Never label a politician as an idiot;
even if the label is true.
Chances are they still know;
better than they do.

Last night
I thought I met a sincere politician
But it turned out to be an actor
Inspired by Jimmy Stewart

Today
I thought I met a wonderful actor
But it turned out to be a politician
Pretending to be a politician

I don't trust Hillary Clinton because of the allegations that she's facing.
A future with her as President is something I would have a difficult time embracing.
Bernie Sanders is the Presidential candidate for me.
I've contributed to him and voted for him in the primaries.
Many years ago Sanders opposed segregation.
That was awesome and deserved celebration.
Congress passed Sanders' first piece of legislation for the National Program of Cancer Registries.
All 50 states now run registries to help cancer researchers gain important insight because of the effort of Bernie.
He was re-elected to serve eight terms as a Congressman by the people in Vermont.
Bernie Sanders has integrity and that is the kind of President that I want.

There once was a man on border patrol
With a heart not unlike a massive black hole
He wore his uniform with brilliant pride
As he sent immigrants back to the right side
A hero of the nation
Into the night he would ride
Some nights he would find twas not a soul to be found
As he searched the dry, sand covered ground
But on others he’d find, much to his delight
Many to which he was not so polite
Harsh and cruel was he
Always, he was a true knight
One day as the patrolman was on the job
Some animals came to start a large mob
They were angry with the hero, they did not agree
“America” they shouted “should be FREE”
He smiled and with sound mind replied
“Not if it was up to me”
They raged at this, which made him chuckle
Until one of them struck and jaw met brass knuckle
Seeing this act of violence, more law men jumped in
The law was the law, and the law would win
just as it should be
just as it hasn’t been
But the patrolman was put away
And the immigrants got to stay
Because not all stories have happy endings
At the end of the day

You made me hate you.
You must love to do it,
You’re acting like you knew it.
You made me hate you.
There’s really nothing to you.
You’re loathed by all that knew you.

You are disgusting sometimes
And times you’re worse.
You really need drugs and
A doctor and a full time nurse.

You always lie so
The truth seems to evade you.
It’s like the devil made you.
I wish you’d just frack off.

Gimme, gimme, gimme
What I long for
A better kind of behavior
I can’t write a song for.
You know you made me
Hate you!

Zeerow, The Hero
Was a spectacular fool.
An unrepentant tool,
He run on philosophy
Based on misogyny,
Of raging homophobia
And collected memorabilia
From the Third *****.

He didn’t like to be questioned
Whenever it was mentioned
Because he knew something
The rest of us were missing.
He knew as he knew day and night
That he was one hundred percent right
And we were all certifiable imbeciles
That made him totally irascible.

His compassion undetectable
He thought himself respectable
Because he kept his bigotry quiet.
But few could actually buy it
Because his brow-lowering scowls
And not-so sotto voce growls
Gave him away rather quickly.

And sometimes things got sticky
When he found him surrounded
By those previously grounded
In his wordy, misguided opinions  
That we were all his minions
And he was some kind of lordling.
So how could we find him boring?

Yet we did. The best we could, we hid
Whenever he showed his face.
Especially in a public place.
The only thing that made it worse
Was that in the final verse
Some idiots elected him to office
So he got to irritate all of us.
And he did so officially,
Doing so quite efficiently.

She didn’t light the fire.
She was so discerning
watching her city burning
in complete and painful chaos.

The political arsonist
was invested in destroying this
ghetto, one small city section,
didn’t give a ****
about any woman or man
who got hurt by his plan.

So, while the flames
kept getting higher
she crept with her metal wire.
That mad mass murderer
never even heard her.
He never even got
to shout out or gurgle,
as she strangled
that fat cat *******
who made a living
off the suffering
of the innocent.

You’re just a pumped up,
Jumped up pile of blather
And I’d rather hear a cat
Yowling under my window
Than what you bellow
When someone is stupid
Enough to hand you a mike.
And I’d like to remind you
How unkind you are to many
That you daily look down on,
Calling them losers and morons,
When the title refers more to you
Because of the incredibly crass
Times you are an ***, a buffoon.

I pray that soon, you will wake up
And take up some kind of therapy
That will bring clarity to your mind
That is fogged by hair products
Or some early conduct of a parent
Because it is apparent you suffered
From lack of parental training.
Or it was raining on manners day
And you stayed home to play
Or count your pay from dividends
From your trust fund. That’s just one
Of the multitude of benefits you had
That made you barking mad today;
That made you say horrible things
About women in general and inaccurate
Statements about Mexicans and about
Better politicians than you will ever be.

If suddenly history goes completely nuts
And elects your ***; a misogynistic,
Unrealistic a sophistic stranger to reality
As you turned out to be, it will be sicken me.
You had more given to you without effort,
And in that desert of a mind of yours,
Which bores most of us to tears,
Somehow the years of plenty
Denied to so many and gifted to you
Have left you with nothing fun to do
But brag about yourself.
You’re an ugly elf.

I never knew a noble sacrifice
I couldn’t use
Couldn’t take
To demonstrate
My point of view
Shroud the truth
To pound the youth
Into my way of thinking
Orwell would have been cowed
By my level of thinking
Hemingway
Would have had to stop drinking
To out-smart our stinking
Propaganda machine
Human beings make
Perfect machines to partake of
More sacrifices
Not to Allah or Yahweh
But to my god of greed
The capitol conquest
My bible to succeed