The genesis: — “Bush On The Couch” by Dr. Justin A. Frank
It’s your station in life commanding fear or respect
a quality forged by bridges built or wrecked
to aid the weak or succor the powerful
it’s a mantle earned by who you call and cull
Being so broken, drink or dominion offer no fix
the holes and flaws become your dominatrix
the higher you go harming on a grander scale
the naked light of failure a darker shade of pale
Scuttlin’ from reality, gripping your demon shield
blissful sadism and omnipotence to wickedly wield
tethered to a megalomania writ oh so divine
fostering a callousness of the impervious kind
Running and hiding when it was your turn
keeping the VC out of downtown Galveston
as commander, you tell who to kick ass
but in your time to serve, you took a pass
An entire life riddled and riven by grievous need
drunk or sober bathing in moral bankruptcy
the U.S. presidency so way out of your league
or a brush cowboy Al-Qaeda-failure-to-heed
3,000 people perished in infernos today
code red intel spikes spelling a fray
yet tragedy’s lesson ends with this call
you’ll just need to head out to the mall
Because it doesn’t matter what or how
winning the moment, your sacred cow
in your empty suit which you so belong
just bang a gong, getting your war on
Chaney and the rest spun you like a top
with a wink and a nod to a virtueless sop
them knowing just what to do and say
GeorgieT got asked to come out and play
Sending soldiers off to your madeup war
sexing up the terms, stacking the score
bodies come back, maimed or boxed
your crocodile tears smudging the cost
Jesus ain’t served by your lies and war
or trying incessantly to top Daddy’s score
never saying sorry ’cause nobody else mattered
the dead decomposing, their being splattered
Just go with the gut, light on the fact
to hell with looking forward and back
no need for analysis and surely no debate
that’s work and carries too heavy a freight
New Orleans drowns in water and wind
while who’s pickin’ a guitar, flashing a grin
What was predicted sadly came to pass
“Heckuva job Brownie” is what’s heard last
Tryin’ now to counterfeit what is history
judgment lapses for all to feel and see
truth as mangled as your brand of compassion
making selfless good something to ration
Dylan, yes, he was spot on back in 1965
telling us with a wink and his loquacious jive
it don’t take a weatherman to make the deduction
GWB, yes, he’s a weapon of mass destruction
(written in 2011)