Presidential Poetry

While up in Kennebunkport recently, I engaged in the typical manly R&R activity : Fishing. However, I decided (at the urging of Karl) to get in touch with my feminale, femininin, fem-, womanly side. This will supposedly help me with the Soccer Broads, or whoever.

So, I'm thinking to myself, what is it that puss-, I mean, sensitive guys like to do? First thing that pops into my head : Write Poetry! But I can't just sit around, pen in hand, trying to write a bunch of flowery crap. Maybe Clinton was good with that stuff; from what I hear, he could have an elderly nun standing in a puddle of her own cooze-juice in under 60 seconds if he really applied himself. But I'm not some sexual deviant; I'm a Methodist, for fuck's sake!

So, I decided to write about what I know. And what better way to write about what you know than to write about what you know while you're doing what you know about!? Uh, so I wrote about fishing!

I started a little slow, but I really got on a roll and was able to finish three, count 'em, three, poetic masterpieces. Here they are :

#1 :

"The fish is fresh,
It's such a fresh, fresh fish!"

#2 :

"One fish, two fish,
Red fish, blue fish.
Oh, a new fish!
It's a Jew fish!"

#3 :

"Fishy, fishy, in the brook,
Dubya catch you on the hook,
Laura fry you in the pan,
Janet Reno is a man."

Beat that, Longfella!