It ain't Shakespeare, but here it is...
Original post:
http://blogs.salon.com/0002551/Original poem for George:
http://blogs.salon.com/0002551/2003/10/04.htmlLaura, you've proved
You are truly a Bush:
Not a moment's reflection;
You just speak from the tush.
You are perfect for George
And he's your kind of guy:
Is there nothing so small
About which you won't lie?
I doubt you take drugs;
You don't look like you're drinking.
Are you taking prescriptions
To prevent you from thinking?
Your First Lady image
Just cannot be fixed:
Your stare is too vacant;
Your priorities, mixed.
You plugged a kids' book
On TV, where you read it,
Then you sent the tome back
To the store for a credit.
You're a fashion disaster;
Is your dressmaker high?
You'd do better to call
The Fab 5 from Queer Eye.
As a mother, you're flummoxed
By raising a child;
Now Snoop Dogg wants the twins
To make "Bush Girls Gone Wild."
You're out of your league
With that toward which you're striving
(Is this a bad time
To mention your driving?)
That Caroline would share
Space with you says a lot:
She's too gracious to tell you:
Jackie Kennedy, you're not.