The Guys In The Back Room Come To A Decision About This And That And The War in Iraq

                                           I

We’ve talked it over, Scooter, hard and deep;
This shit won’t go away.  Answer our call—
We must divert attention to one creep;
Be a teammate—step up and take the fall

Posture all you want; prancing to the tune
Of outraged dignity, cry partisan
Muck!  Dirty politics!  Assert how soon
The court will find the truth, redeem the man

You are.  But Scooter, there’s another truth
We cannot bear—they mustn’t find the key
To that Pandora’s box crammed with the ruth-
less lies we sold to float this cash-filled spree.

A trial exposing usthat cannot be
We’ll fund you, but you gotta cop a plea!

                                           II

Dammit Scooter, now look at what you’ve done!
We told you we’d take care of things if you’d
Take one for the team, cop a plea!  No fun,
We know, but we saw it as your duty!

What a spectacle!  Now you’re blaming Rove—
Who works for Bush—and the whole CIA—
And Cheney’s bare ass exposed to view above
The horizon, emblazoning the day

With blinding new embarrassments.  My god,
Must you insist on taking us all down?
What happened to simple loyalty?  Odd
That you’d create havoc, adopt that frown,

Refuse to staunch the muck and save your friends.
Without Hope, your trial sets free Pandora’s
Fiends—Envy, Vanity, Slander, Greed—ends
Our bent aspirations, and all for what?

We’re all ruined now, become a laughingstock—
Pawns chained to Cheney, ridiculed and mocked!
                                       (2/5/07)

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