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Dashed this off for a comment thread at Wonkette today. Thought you all might enjoy it.


There was a man ill-favored and profane
Who saw no reason to restrain his spleen.
Though vulgar and most possibly insane,
He nonetheless did capture votes unseen.
Despite the efforts of his worthy foe,
And all the sweat and tears shed by her folk,
This tasteless clown did trumpet bile and woe,
Thus making of the race a rancid joke.
And now we all must tremble in our beds
To see our wondrous country so imperiled
By shameless hacks who'll trample more than dead
The work achieved by those whom Hope did herald.

For though the nation weeps, he'll worry not,
But sit upon his throne and bellow, "ROT!!"

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