In a rambling interview, President Obama reflects upon the death of J. D. Salinger.

 

 

I know it’s nuts, Obama mused

But let’s give this a try

I feel that I have been abused

Like the catcher in the rye

A name like Holden Caulfield yet

Bespeaks of white class gold

Just how much whiter can you get

Just shows how they are bold

I’ve had the same dream Holden had

I’m standing by the cliff

To catch each wildly running lad

Yes that’s the rye field riff

The dream is just a metaphor

My people all in pain

And I just can’t forget ‘em nor

Have I a lot to gain

From pushing forward on my goal

To bring healthcare to all

And if I break someone’s rice bowl

That’s right, I’ll make that call

Right now though I am ‘specially blue

That Salinger is gone

Pierre was such a good guy too

A sprightly elfin fawn

Who took good care of JFK

And gave it every try

I didn’t know he wrote, they say

The Catcher In The Rye