On the Origins of the Species Politica Nonsensica
One day the son said to God,
“Humans need a laugh squad.”
“Say what son?”
“You mean fun?”
“Wouldn’t that seem a bit odd?”
“No Dad, I think it’d be cool,”
“Maybe even laughter in school!”
He’s sounding coy,
the silly boy,
thought God, Am I a sour old fool?
Then he remembered the rip
in poor Job’s small ill-fated ship
The sound, like split britches
had them laughing in stitches.
Thought God, “When did my humor get stripped?
God pondered and stroked his long beard.
Cherubs and seraphims peered,
though mystified,
they deified.
Downstairs, the outcast one sneered.
“Tell you what son, let’s give ‘em politics.”
“It’s way more fun than sinking small ships.”
So the laughing squads
(two teams at odds),
were loosed on the masses with tricks.
Which, coincidently, was fine
with the one who’d crossed the line,
Beelzebub,
became the hub
for political slime in prime time.
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