LES SPECTRES DE LA SCUZZ by Dennis Doph

touchdown Jesus. 25

So, children:
Think our modern, rotten times are full of thrills?
Chicanery has always been the sport that kills.
Who in these times could possibly dethrone
That rotten piece of dreck known as Roy Cohn?
Or, in the Senate, which presently has lost its luster
No one can forget the solon who invented Filibuster
Who can dismiss the man once known as Prince of Pain
The blustering, malignant Harry Cain
Who, full of spite and rising to a hiss
Would fill an empty coffee can with piss?

Think Michelle Bachmann can fill your heart with dread?
Try filling those hallowed steps where Joe McCarthy used to tread
And, twinkling with twaddle even scorned by Gertrude Stein
His Eminence, ten-times-hallowed Father Divine
Glenn Beck couldn't even touch what in a pinch'll
cream your political fricassee: try Walter Winchell.
And, if that bitch in Arizona has you in a state of rut,
try: Senator Smoot, Republican, UT, who's planning a ban on smut.

These present pranksters could not fill this heart with fear
When one considers collective douchebags of yesteryear.
Franklin Roosevelt endured more shit detectors
Than a whole brace of palpating Hannibal Lecters.
His loving wife Eleanor put on the Great First Lady pose
While parading a score of lesbians 'neath Franklin's nose
And who could trump our prestent tricksters, primping for a tweak
Than the sound of Bobby Kennedy, escalating to a shriek?

No.
Modern days seem like a pause before a collective slump
When one considers ten Birchers poised over Anaheim to take a dump.
All the freaks and all the shrieks cannot compare with what once was
As we recall these rotten, misbegotten Spectres de la Scuzz.
So while John Boehner tries to pull the chain on all our thrice-passed bills,
Remember chicanery is still the sport that kills.