"All In" on a Bad Hand

Shrub had an urge to waste and splurge,
But now we moan a mournful dirge.

Procrastination has its aims,
Yet never offers truthful claims.

Again we stay to stall for time,
'Till Shrub can cover up his crime.

Like Vietnam in desert sands,
Iraq once more has tied our hands.

The violence goes down, we say;
So that just means we have to stay.

The violence goes up and so
That just means we can never go.

We train them to dependency
So that they’ll never once break free.

We’ve given them vast wounds to nurse,
And English, so they’ll learn to curse.

Thus, mission-creeping with a "surge,"
We flog ourselves with our own scourge.

But Dick says Shrub the burden bears:
Deciding stuff while chaos flares.

This propaganda catapult
Continues to our minds insult.

His lies he’s never once un-spun,
Or failed to twist the Truth for fun.

So now he waits for greater fools
To buy his worthless quagmire jewels.

We've gone "all in" on Shrub's bad bet.
How stupid can one nation get?

Michael Murry, "The Misfortune Teller," Copyright © 2008