The Swimmer

President Obama will address the country tonight in the annual State of the Union address.  Obama is swimming against a strong outgoing tide that is carrying him into irrelevancy. With momentous events swirling all about him, President Obama seems blissfully disconnected. The outgoing tide has carried him off the beach, where he bobs to and fro, aware in some dim fashion of the nearby looming landmass, but not a part of it. The people of this country are vehemently opposed to giving lawyers to terrorists, vehemently opposed to bringing Khalid Sheikh Mohammed to New York for a show trial that will result in the greatest anti-American propaganda boondoggle in recorded history, and are firmly opposed to the administration’s version of healthcare reform. Despite this, the president floats serenely alone, determined to press ahead, convinced that he and he alone knows what is good for us.

 

 

Alone on the beach with the sky turning gray

The timeless sea murmuring low

I spotted a swimmer a distance away

He seemed to be someone I know

He called me a greeting and waved me a hand

He grinned in an infectious way

And said “Why are you standing alone on the sand

Come into the water and play”

‘Twas Hussein Obama and now very near

He swam with strong strokes in the surf

He shouted “Now let me make perfectly clear

You’re standing on my favorite turf

I love shifting sands they permit me to be

Anything that my people desire

I always allow my positions be free

I never go wire to wire”

He emerged from the surf with a bound up the beach

The sun was just breaking new day

“A whole new world order is just in my reach”

He grinned a grin toothy and gay

“I’ve won in Iraq and in Afghan I’m fine

In Yemen we’re rounding them up

Our Iran position is coming on line

Good fortune is filling my cup”

Then back in the water now sparkling with sun

The breakers all brilliant with foam

I watched as he swam knowing he was The One

And turned and walked sadly back home

 

 

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