Lynne FincherSpringarden


Back Door Uncle Sam


Santorum, Perry, Bachmann, Mitt...
Who could ever give a shit
if all these store-bought
Candidates were sold
and hauled away in crates.

With blow of Cain
and 'I' of Newt
We've sealed our country's disrepute...

The time to vote is fast approaching
But don't you throw a fit
The GOP and the SOB's
Don't have the back door chip.

Obama's got the very top
The man with the second Reg.
So when they count the final vote
They'll take the final pledge.

Now please don't cry citizen Kane
Why lament the death of democracy
It was all a ruse by the men in suits
Next year we become a theocracy.

Submitted: Tuesday, June 19, 2012
Edited: Wednesday, August 28, 2013

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Poet's Notes about The Poem

The 2012 GOP field

Comments about this poem (Back Door Uncle Sam by Lynne FincherSpringarden )

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  • Owain Glyn (1/1/2013 1:47:00 PM)

    Now you've got me alive and kicking! There is no excuse for the masses being fooled by all this crap, it's the age old adage, money buys the votes, votes bring in the money, democracy my welsh arse! I posted one named 'men in grey suits' I think that displays my contempt for these so-called public servants. (Report) Reply

  • Mark Walters (9/13/2012 6:05:00 PM)

    I guess you're right. Politics make strange bedfellows. When one candidate loses the primary, he suddenly loves the front runner. I think they all lose their minds when they cross the beltway in D. C. (Report) Reply

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