Disclaimer: When it comes to Inauguration Day poems, I freely admit I’m no Robert Frost:
‘Twas the day of Obama, when all through the land
Every creature was scurrying with an outstretched hand
The naive were jostling for position to stare,
Knowing that Saint Hope’n’Change soon would be there;
The failing were getting all snug with the Fed,
While visions of bailout plums danced in their heads;
And mamma with her mortgage, and car needing gas,
Thinks HE will pay for them while she sits on her —
Eh, never mind. I’ve got to get the kids bundled up to play in the rare snow. So please accept my regrets for this aborted effort — it was rather obviously based on Clement Clark Moore anyway. But not to worry; I hear abortion and plagiarism are in again.
Disclaimer 2: Obviously, by dint of not limning on dinosaur turds in the first stanza, I’m no Maya Angelou, either.
