corrente

Meaning no disrespect to our house songwriter MJS, this one from a bard named Sara needs wider distribution. Make up yer own tune, and for bonus points figure out all the poets subtly cited here:

(via a comment thread over at Atrios although I misplaced the link to the precise one.)

The Bush stood on the burning deck,
And said, "Can't take the heat!
I must get out of the kitchen now,
And cool my blistered feet."

When Bush went down beside the sea,
To cool his feet in the brine;
He met the Ancient Mariner,
At the helm of a Swift boat fine.

"I've just returned from the DNC,
The DNC and the sky,
And all I ask," cried John Kerree,
"Is the White House, by and by."

"I've hugged the shore for many a day
With my grumbling, cranky crew,
But now I'm in your waterway,
And I'm gunning, Shrub, for you."

"Your vessel's the Narcissus,
Your crew are falling sick,
You've an Albatross around your neck,
That smells like Big Time Dick."

"You're sailing three sheets in the wind
Straight into a stormy gale;
Your deck’s on fire, your hopes are pinned
On catching the Great White Whale."

"The Hesperus and the Mary Deare
And the Deutschland all were sunk;
And even they had captains, hear--
Who weren't dry stinking drunk."

Said Bush, "Your speech is clever
But you don't understand:
The One who made me Skipper,
Is Lord of sea and land."

"I do not have to read the News,
Or USA Today;
I never base my plans or views
On what dumb pollsters say,"

"I listen to my Heavenly Dad,
I love to hear him talk,
And if he tells me to, I'll steer
Straight into the Inchcape Rock!"

"Twilight and evening bell,
And after that....(smirk, smirk)
I'm Captain here, so go to Hell!"
And he gave the wheel a jerk.

It was Ashcroft, Ashcroft everywhere,
And no sign of the Bill of Rights,
Or Osama bin L. or an end to hell,
And no WMDs in sight.

And then a wave of pure disgust
Rose up with a mighty swell,
It swamped Shrub’s decks, the timbers heaved,
And the public heaved, as well.

They threw God's Skipper in the drink
And his Albatross in after,
And when their grisly crew was gone,
Twas time for joy and laughter.

Our Ship of State is leaking tub,
I pray we may not founder,
At least our captain is not Shrub,
And will make our vessel sounder.

This briny yarn I spin is true,
I saw it with these eyes,
So buy me a round, you cheapskate you,
And I'll tell you a bunch of lies.