6-6-6
9-9-9
One night the devil was conversing
With his expectant Herman Cain,
When suddenly he started cursing
And Herman thought, “I’m down the drain.”
“Please, Brother,” Herm said, “on the level
I promised you I’d raise the devil.
And you can see I’ve kept my vow.
What more can I do for you now?”
“You promised me a devilocracy,”
Old Satan said. “With me in charge.
And you ambassador-at-large.
And so I curse you for hypocrisy.”
“But, Satan, in our politics
You can’t flat tax at 6-6-6.”
1 comment:
Stepfather
I picture you sitting on the sofa with your pet iguana. You’re wearing your one-of-a-kind leather stovepipe hat and lecturing to the child whose diapers you’d never change. You’re a true revolutionary and you’ve got the expensive taste to prove it. You still live behind the Pic-N-Save, in the only decent building on the block. All your neighbors smoke Camels, but you smoke Cubans. You’ve got your treatise on Lenin (in case anyone ever wants to know the truth about him) and you’d have academic aspirations if you allowed yourself. Your one consistency is that you’ve always been an asshole.
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