The Liberal Poems

The Liberal makes the very best friend.
He is loyal to a fault.
On earth he is the salt 
rubbed into a wound that stings
and then gets better.  
"I feel your pain."
Who me?  Everybody?
The Liberal, therefore,
must be spiritual.

The liberal will tell you the world
has become a swamp.
When he wants some time
to think about this he heads
for the safety of his favorite bolg.
He feels a sense of comradeship there.
He waits by the bolg like the oracle of old
for the truth to bubble up.  Suddenly he sees
a Fox Rush by and the waters are fouled.

The Liberal loves heroes too.
Little Jack Horner is an inspiration to many.
Like Jack the Liberal feels shunted
into a corner.  Christmas is the Liberal's
favorite holiday because there are gifts
for everyone.  The Liberal's favorite line
is the last (corrected for political correctness):
"He stuck in his thumb and pulled out a plum
and said, ' What a good PERSON am I."  

When the Liberal is moribund
he doesn't know it.
He blames the capitalists for
an energy shortage.
He puts up scarecrows,
sets them on fire
and the doses them with cold cash.
The Liberal has been given ___ to live.

The Liberal doesn't know
if he is frustrated or prostrated.
Though he has read everything,
the Liberal can't remember why.
His emblematic bird is the blue heron.
Why?  Blue because that's what he's been told.
Heron because it stands stock-still
amidst golden marsh grasses.
The Liberal loves nature
that's why he lives mostly in cities.

The Liberal doesn't care if he
lives or dies.  He doesn't know
if anyone else does.
When the Liberal watches television
he scoffs.  When he's in church,
he coughs.
When the Liberal drives into the sunset
he knows that Reagan will be there
to meet him.  Dead or alive.

When the Liberal comes up from a quagmire
he finds himself in a conundrum.  He likes his
steak rare but he is sickened
by red meat.  By liking his steak rare
he is accused of being elitist.
In fact, the Liberal can't go anywhere
that's too red.  At least the Liberal
can eat his tofu and yogurt
in peace.

The Liberal doesn't like to shave.
He does, but that's another story.
Sometimes he's mistaken for a
hippie or a beatnik or a Frenchman.
Liberals are not allowed to like
Paris Hilton or Monday Night Football.
He goes hunting ashamedly and,
in good conscience, may only use
a bow and arrow.

After all he has learned, the Liberal
doesn't know much.  His ivy-wall
education and his ivory tower outlook
taught him everything except
common sense.  Why does he
search under every stone and stem cell
to find answers which could be received
by other means.  The Liberal has
blisters on his brain and calluses
on his cataracts.