Out old year, you weren’t pretty
Out with Janet Jackson’s titty
Out with Bill O’Reilly’s loofah
(Which made miss Macris hit the roofa)
Go get lost, two thousand four
We really cannot take much more
Of Ahnold and Maria Shriver,
Rudolph Giuliani’s driver
Paul Bremer’s failed mission
Fallujah’s demolition
George Bush strutting, smirking
As if the mad plan was working
The coalition of the “willing”
The Passion of Curt Schilling
Ascendant Talibangelists
>From Charleston to Los Angeles
Please already drop the curtain
On Cheney, Dick and Haliburton
Privatizing everything
Down to the Army’s dishwashing
His daughter Mary selling beer
His wife Lynn, selling fear
His pseudo-rival Colin Powell
A hawk passing for an owl
And Prissy Condoleeza Rice
Let us make a sacrifice
Of her and Rupert Murdoch
Karl Rove, Kid Rock
David Stern, Donald Trump
(among the very first we’d bump)
Berlesconi, Tony Blair,
Biden with his phony hair
A Bronx cheer and demerits
For Bob Novak, Marty Peretz
Ann Coulter, Sean Hannity
Chip chip chipping at our sanity
Global warming, that don’t frighten
Best seller Michael Crichton
Glaciers melting? What me worry
It won’t happen in a hurry
And when we die we just grow wings
And leave behind the underlings
Evolution’s just a theory
Have some Paxil feel more cheery
Take Cialis, have some sex
Celebrate with Celebrex
You always said you needed “strokes”
Now’s your chance step right up, folks
Eli Lilly, Pfizer, Merck
They all know their drugs don’t work
But nothing’s standing in their way
Since they bought the FDA
Enough of two thousand four
Take your baggage out the door
Hurricanes and beheadings
Much ado ’bout gay weddings
Your Intifadas and crusades
Pack ’em up and quickly fade
You don’t deserve to survive
Make room for two thousand five!
Done before the wave hit
(Now why even save it,
A trivial poem, a silly ode) a
Really catastrophic coda.
FRED GARDNER can be reached at journal@ccrmg.org