Tuesday, March 12, 2013

Giving the deity his due


Obama's my baby daddy;
I shall not want.
He maketh me to lie down
and stick my legs in the air:
he admonisheth me to silence,
lo, the walls are thin.

He exploreth my hole:
he leadeth me down the path gardenwise.
Yo, though I walk through the valley
of East St Louis, I will fear no evil;
for thou have assured me,
"What difference does it make?"

Thou preparest a window table
at Popeye's so mine enemies can envy me;
thou drapest my ears with free telephony.
My EBT card runneth over.
Surely Section 8 and welfare shall follow me
all the days of my life,
and you will drop by my condo
until I am 30 and flat-chested.

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