for iowahawk, il fabbro corn-soaked
I had met a voter from a swing state
Who said: 'Two nicely creased pants of blue serge
Lie in Chitown. Near them, buried in Hope
Posters, a shattered false narrative is revealed
An unclenched fist and a reset button
Tell that its media felt every tingle
The teleprompter that had mocked them
Sits in some presidential library.
And on the Greek columns these words appear--
"My name is Barrymandias, fourth best:
Look on my Obamacare and despair!"
Nothing remains but Detroitian decay
Of that colossal debt and deficit
Which he had never planned to repay.'
I didn't get around to fixing the rhyme scheme or meter. Oh well. Now I have to work on my other poem wherein I hurt Obama's feelings.