Nanoseconds of Civility

He rushed into a burning house
To save a neighbor close death.
Before his firemen could douse,
Mayor Booker feared his final breath
Would come inside a flaming room,
His generosity his doom.

He’s Cory to his Newark fans,
A Stanford and Yale Law School grad,
Whose grit’s as good as any man’s
(Or woman’s!) in a place gone bad
But which his QLife plans confront,
Drawn up for all to bear the brunt.

So, like words of a favorite song
That people daydream, undefined,
Can’t everybody get along?
Perhaps was running through his mind
When on last Sunday’s Meet the Press
He spoke of what he’d soon redress:

His Democrats, and GOP
Were nauseating in their fight—
Rapacious private equity,
Odd racial thoughts of Reverend Wright,
Ex-pastor of the president,
Like Romney’s firm, inferno-sent.

He saw himself the next day say
In GOP ads edited,
Effectively, he won’t inveigh
Against Bain Capital. Instead,
Off air he right away took aim:
Mitt’s time there was, he said, fair game.