Election 2012

Way down in the good old US of A
the love a man who wears cowboy boots.
They give him real high marks,
if he knows how to ride, rope, and shoot.

He doesn’t have to know his ABC’s.
He just needs to have a Texas drawl.
Women flush, grow weak in the knees,
when smiles, and says how you doing, you-all.

If you’ve been a western star,
and have your handprint in cement,
your name doesn’t have to be on the ballet
to be elected the next US president.


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Filed under A poem for the people, Poem

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