Each year, for our dear leader's purported birthday, Papa Possum assumes the role of his devil's poet laureate.

This year, the tradition continues with "Happy Birthday, O Dear Leader, Year Seven".

Enjoy, or not.


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Happy Birthday, O Dear Leader, Year Seven
Clean up the mess.


Grab scissors and glue,
plenty of paper too,
and all colors of pencil and pen:
it's time for the smarm
that our rulers call charm -
it's our dear leader's birthday again!

He'll pose and he'll mug
that he's not marxist thug,
claim the mantle of any great pol.
Each speech it's the same:
barry's sad dress-up game.
Yes, our dear leader's a paper doll!

He's George Washington,
and he's Ronald Reagan,
and he's franklin d. roosevelt too,
he's Lincoln, he's Christ -
there's no name he won't heist -
but no matter the clothes, we see through.

So, now make your own
paper emperor, throne,
but with costumes much closer to fact:
he's stalin, he's mao,
he's il duce (and how!) -
such a paper doll perfidy packed.

When his party's done
comes the best of the fun
an end fit for dear leader's birthday:
your paper schlemiel
who would have us all kneel...
crumple it up and throw it away.


Happy Birthday, O Dear Leader, Year Seven, Copyright © 2015 Papa Possum


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Hear the audio stream here: http://papapossum.blogspot.com/2015/0...

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