The Ravers
Edgar Allen Poe
Once upon a campaign dreary,
one which left us weak and weary
O'er many a quaint and curious promise
of political lore,
While we nodded, nearly napping,
suddenly there came a yapping,
As of some votes overlapping,
energy-zapping to the core
"'Tis a mess here," we all muttered,
as the network anchors stuttered,
Stuttered over Bush and Gore.
Could there be another election
with such a case of misdirection,
One with such a weak selection,
yet fraught with tension to the core?
Quoth the ravers, "Nevermore."
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© Copyright 2000 E. A. Poe |
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