Can't Read Mitt's Lips

It’s obvious why Mitt’s obscure
About his plans as president.
It’s not as though he isn't sure.
Instead he has to circumvent
Specifics his own folks eschew
Like where to find more revenue.

Call an Ambulance

I now watch Mitt with squinted eyes
Through fingers pressed obstructing sight
As though he needs to improvise
Because he’s lost and can’t recite
Lines called for in a third-grade play,
To friends’ and family’s taut dismay.

Arab Summer

The best news from a Muslim land
Since crowds declared their Arab Spring
Is how much Libyans understand
The means the Western world can bring
To see their country modernize,
And cut militias down to size.

Is Mitt a Masochist?

Since you don’t pay an income tax,
You count upon the government,
As victims, dubbed, to watch your backs
With health care, food—you name it—rent,
Or loans to get B.A. degrees
And kindle possibilities.

Dumb, Dumber, Dumbest

The world has plumbed a brand new low.
A California fraudster shoots
An idiotic video
That shows Mohammed at his roots
To be a clownish pedophile
And prophet only in denial.

Some of Your Worst Enemies are Jews

Should Israel bombard Iran
To decimate enrichment plants
That, even though denials, can
Create the chilling circumstance
Where mullahs have atomic bombs
To lob at rabbis singing psalms?

As Also the World Watches

Such matters might seem frivolous
Amid a presidential race
What counts, though, for this grumpy gus
Is whether candidates debase
Avoidably not just their foes
But, too, themselves, in fabled prose.