President’s Day Pussy

Poem for Candidates

To aspire
and arrive
to lead a nation
is an honorable ambition

impossible to attain
for a pussy.

We bestow the office
on little men
who sit upon
a throne of weapons.

To be the chief,
a little fellow must accept,
if not aspire,
to wash his hands in blood.
The office demands a trigger finger.

Leading America
is a bloody profession,
mostly undertaken by lawyers.

The nation’s knife
bestowed on one
unlearned in the arts of death
delivers power to a child.

Who seated then
upon the throne,
will be required
to draw a sword,
too heavy for a child,
and swing it
in a popular direction.

The result
is always bloody.
Popular death is rare.

I’m a pussy.

Who wants the job?