The Reagan
By JD Paul
(Written Spring, 1987)


Once upon an evening dreary, while I maundered, drunk and bleary,
Watching many a dumb and ridiculous television show,
While I nodded, nearly drooling, suddenly there came a cueing,
As of someone gently shooing, shooing an idea into my status quo,
"'Tis some parody," I muttered, "shooing an idea into my status quo
					Hey -- I'm paraphrasing Poe."

Indistinctly I remember, it was in early November,
And each separate phosphor pixel glowed and flickered row on row.
Listlessly I watched the TV; I flicked the channel to NBC,
And I saw the face of V.P. -- the V.P. we all don't care to know,
And he introduced the Pres'dent, who said the line that we all know,
					"Well, uh, there again you go."

And the sincere, comic stumbling of each prattling, senile mumbling,
Killed me -- filled me with maniac laughter felt six years ago,
So that now to still the kicking of my feet I sat there sticking
Out my tongue toward the figure making my TV screen glow,
Pointing at the frail, pathetic figure making my TV screen glow,
					Then he said, "Well, uh, hello."

Presently I chugged one more beer; belching once again -- one more jeer
"Sir," slurred I, "or Pres'dent, I won't even tell you where to go.
But the fact is, you were napping, and so reality came rapping, 
But so gently it came tapping, tapping at your status quo,
That sure you were it was a dream -- "here I looked down at the phosphor glow --
					No substance there, as we all know.

Deep into that cathode-ray tube, long I stared there like a country rube,
Retching, thinking things -- no normal person ever thought so low -- 
But the Pres'dent went on speaking, and I sat there sometimes peeking,
And the only thing there spoken was cliche -- "Well, long ago..."
Then repeated, and I sat there thinking, puking on the flo'
					Merely him, and so much woe.

Stumbling to the icebox learning, all my guts within me burning, 
Just how hard it is to stand this bad parody of Poe,
"Surely," said I, "I can stop this before he tells a lie to top this,
Let me see then, what I have in the fridge, and for more food just go.
Let my gut be still a moment, and for more food I'll go."
					Then I heard, "I didn't know."

Back to TV, now just sitting, 'fore the tube with my brows knitting, 
List'ning to the dodd'ring uncle attempting to fix his status quo,
The faceless poor and welfare queens, riding 'round in limousines,
Of which he spake, and spake, until I'd thought he'd never go,
But spake he did, until it was, thus, time to go.
					Quoth the Reagan, "There you go."

And the Reagan, never graying, still is paying, still is paying,
For his dealings with the "mod'rates" of Iran just above Amer'can law
And his eyes have all the seeming of an actor's that is dreaming,
And the attention  o'er him streaming rocks the boat, his status quo,
And the facts from out that rowboat that lies rocking while we row,
					Shall then show us -- our true foe.