The "Decider" Poems

As Blake Fleetwood suggests over at the Huffington Post, George W. Bush's petulant insistence, yesterday, that he's "the decider" is "pathetic and embarrassing." That would be 'pathetic' as in pathological.

Whatever else we might make of it, it has inspired a couple of bloggers to pen some bitterly funny poetry. Here's a sampling:

"I'm The Decider"

By Roddy McCorley

I'm the decider
I pick and I choose.
I pick among whats.
And choose among whos.

And as I decide
Each particular day
The things I decide on
All turn out that way.

I decided on Freedom
For all of Iraq.
And now that we have it,
I'm not looking back.

I decided on tax cuts
That just help the wealthy.
And Medicare changes
That aren't really healthy.

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"If Dr. Seuss Were in the White House Press Corps"
By Sid's Fishbowl

Down by the Pentagon, where the crickle grass grows,
Where for years the insurgents have been in their "last throes"
Old Donald Rumsfeld relaxed and kicked back
And thought of the fine job he'd done in Iraq

But despite Rummy's feelings of omnipotent might
Lots of people were dying, with no end in sight
So several old generals rose up in rage
And their mad diatribes made it to the front page

All of them wanted poor Rummy to quit
Since 'twas under his watch that Iraq went to shit
But just as old Rummy was about to resign
Bush came along and said "You're doing just fine!"

He was tallish and oldish and grayish and chimpy
And his face looked cartoonish, like a Ren or a Stimpy
He rolled up his sleeves, slammed the floor with a "bang!"
And then bellowed out in his fake Texas twang:

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