(With profuse apologies to Edward Lear)

I
The President strummed on a new guitar
His Veep charmed Canadian oil
Disasters aplenty were ruining the fun
Anarchy, floods, on American soil
‘It’s not Terri Schiavo,’ he said with a grin
‘Why such a clear focus on speed?
The political fallout can’t be all that bad
And no tubes with which we
Can feed,
Can feed,
And no tubes with which we can feed!’

II
The congress folk kind, were now caught in a bind
An emergency session by midnight?
‘What’s one more day as they’re floating away
Would a week appear right for a fight?'
Death was not stopping the State Secretary shopping
Spamalot! Cats! and adorable hats
With the old and sick drowning
Like rats,
Like rats
With the old and sick drowning like rats!

III
George and His Minions soon started the tour
Amidst bitterness, anger and bile
Bottled water for days in a photo op haze
Offering empathy served with a smile
The Minions said to the President Whore
'Our support will be felt near and far
We’ll draft a new law
And we’ll offer them more
Than they possibly ever
Will score,
Will score!
Than they possibly ever will score!'

IV
Death, Darkness, Thirst amidst 'Locked Loaded' shooters
Yes, the meek shall inherit the earth
It’s Culture of Life and its inevitable dearth
“But God will still punish the looters!’
‘What more can He do,’ asked a desperate few,
As the death toll approached the unreal
‘If you daughters lay dyin’, and wife was a’cryin’
I wonder what you then
Might steal
Might Steal
I wonder what you then might steal!’