Ode to Condi

Hey, Condi!

So you gathered up your 4,535 pairs of shoes

and tip-toed into the sunset.

You always did have more class than that

twisted-lipped, evil-oozing monster

who masqueraded as vice president.

We knew he ran the whole freaken show!

But, Condi, you knew that gawd-forsaken

sand trap which is Iraq was no threat to the

most powerful country on earth!

Gawd knows Hussein was no angel...

But, should we have acted

as judge, jury, and executioner?

What was he gonna do, throw sand in our eyes?

Remember the cylinder tubes?

Why did you let them convince you to scare

the bejesus out of the American people?

You always knew those aluminum tubes were

absolutely no threat to our safety.

“But we don't want the smoking gun to be

a mushroom cloud,” you warned.

You remained quiet, Condi,

playing on the fear of an already anxious people...

and that was inexcusable

Remember Monty Python's Spamalot​?

All you wanted to do was have some fun...

take in a Broadway show and hit Thom McCann

for some serious shoe shopping.

But could you?

Oh no! Not with those pesky, ne'er-do-well blax

who decided to do a mass drowning down there

in New Orleans.

We know they were your people, Condi.
 We know you'd want to know.