A PEOPLES POEM ( © 1980) Democrats, its been Near four years since, I went to the peoples '77 inauguration To see the peoples President. At that peoples inauguration, I heard the peoples say; They were going To spend My money On the peoples. Because the peoples need it. I left that peoples inauguration With a Private headache. I headed for The peoples Presidential party. NOT my Party, but the peoples party. At that peoples party I met the same peoples. They were (still) talking; About spending My money On the peoples. Because the peoples need it. I left that peoples party With a private pain. I headed for The farm. NOT the peoples farm, but MY farm. I picked up my hammer and sigh; To clear the weeds To build a new barn To be NOT filled With the grain From the cleared land. Because the peoples need it. I dropped my hammer and my sigh And picked up my fishing pole and pen To write a poem - A PEOPLES POEM - Before I ever worked again. She said: Because the peoples need it Is the only justification The peoples need If this be true Let them clear the weeds. Yet, I still don't fully believe it So, I think I'll return to that farm, To pick up my hammer, And finish building that barn. And What will it take to convince me? Simple; If after doubling my efforts I have two empty barns Then...I'll leave... That GODDAMN farm. Republicans, and so it goes Now near four years later In need of a rest, Before I finish erecting that barn, I plan to attend another yarn. But Before I am accused of cynicism Let me say: I think it will be the same Though in a different way. Somewhat like the way We narrow our brows At our grandparents wasting Of our nows. Each time they changed The old worn out sish-boom-blahs To the promises Of many new rah-rah-rahs. But this time around, If we look closely, We will see our childrens' frowns. And when they ask: Why...? Did you not see The forest fire In the trees. Will we say? THEY did it AGAIN! Though they held the tune They changed the words: WE are Republicans WE never die WE spell peoples C O U N T R Y Republicrats, though I could end it here I cannot stop Something emerges That could destroy the crop. True The common weeds grow thicker As I build my barn But With these now, I can contend And fear no harm. It is a distant sight that scares me. Besides those weeds against the grains, There appears to be, Newer strains. They have floppy leaves, Entangling shoots, And stubborn trunks On reddish roots. Actually They are -I fear - Those ancient hybridizations, -Reemerging- With their blood thirsty roots Entrenched against eradication. My only hope, is to hurry And To ask my pesticide suppliers To re-invent a new form of DDT. One that will protect me From that still distant imMORAL MAJORITY. Libertarians, Will it never end? Yes, For me, thanks to you It has. I watched your Satellite Celebrations, With Hope - that vapour Gold - Once again filling my lungs, With Pride and Revelations. With that now, I read my future Almanacs Seeing smiles printed in farmers eyes And Triumph stamped upon their backs. They will plant their new seeds With a knowledge that is true: They are good farmers Boy! What a Harvest awaits '92! But, Enough for now Its back to work. Afterall, Barns - Quite Unlike farmers - Do not erect themselves.