Death or Taxes

Chief Justice Roberts (who’d have thought?)
Of sturdy right-of-center views,
The choice of whom Obama fought
While senator, which should amuse
Someone whose crowning White House coup
Is health reform for all of you.

Who Wants to Do the Work?

I’m glad the High Court overturned
Three-fourths of Arizona’s law
That Constitution buffs discerned
As giving states the right to draw
Exclusive foreign policies
On immigration deportees.

The Price is Wrong

As though he were our High Court’s voice
When dubbing corporations folks,
Mitt Romney more so can rejoice
At how they merit equal strokes.
Five justices have ruled (past reach),
Firms' boundless campaign dole’s free speech.

Call Them By Another Name

By now we’ve all viewed Karen Klein,
The aging, school-bus monitor
Tormented by a group malign
Of seventh-graders to abhor,
Recalling while she’s teary-eyed
Her eldest son’s a suicide.

Kids Should be Kids (Part Two)

Imagine that he’d never been
Sandusky, the defensive coach,
But janitor, who now and then
In boys-room showers might approach
With purposes no more complex
Than soapy, anal, oral sex.

Kids Should be Kids

I wonder what the Russians think
When viewing tortured Syrian tots.
Or if the Chinese ever blink
At mutilated babes on cots.
Iranians, wince when they glance
At dead kids in the ambulance?

Eurowoes

The European Union’s states
Think someday that they might unite
In such a way that re-creates
The government that we’ve found right:
Including common currency—
A basic problem, I foresee.

Getting What We'll Pay For

Wisconsin’s vote to sap the might
Of public-service employees,
By cutting benefits and right
To barter wages, guarantees
A budget surplus but as well,
A risky kind of personnel.

Pssst! Wanna Shot of Pepsi?

New York’s Mayor Bloomberg wants to shrink
The bottle size of cokes folks drink
At shows, in bistros and the street,
Since such caloric swill’s so sweet,
And three in ten of us, obese,
But will the incidence decrease?

A Diamond of a Queen

There’s much Elizabeth’s been through
Both as a princess and a queen.
In London during World War II,
(Although her land’s most privileged teen}
While horses wished she’d rather prance,
She drove an army ambulance.

Running on Bounty

John Edwards’ fate, no matter what,
Would serve him right for all his wrong.
A pretty boy must watch his butt
Both in the yard and all night long.
If not in prison, dirty looks
From all who loathe acquitted crooks.