For T.N.
After Lewis Carroll
’Twas brillig, and the citizens
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the democrats,
And the republicans outgrabe.
“Beware of governments, my son!
They bite: they tax, they spend, they bitch
If you complain. Before they’re done,
We’ll all sleep in a ditch!”
A mashie niblick in my hand,
Long time the loathsome foe I sought—
So rested me by a Palin tree,
And stood a while in thought.
As in Alaskan thought I stood,
The President, with eyes of flame,
Came putting at me through the woods—
What a grotesque golf game!
One, two! One, two! What could he do
Against my mashie? Zilch. Talk smack.
His polls fell like a lead balloon,
The Hindenburg, in fact.
“His head was full of hydrogen,”
Dad said. “Come to my arms, my boy!
O frabjous day! Si, se puede!”
We chortled in our joy.
’Twas brillig, and the citizens
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the democrats,
And the republicans outgrabe.
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