The Night of the Shutdown by Jeremy Johnson

Jeremy Johnson is a talented musician and a true patriot. He wrote a poem this week about the government shutdown. I like his poem and asked if I could share it on my blog. He said yes. I created a post for the poem, but got carried away with my own commentary, so I decided to split the two posts. You can read my rant about the shutdown here if you so desire.

English: Sign in front on of the Minnesota His...

The Night of the Shutdown
(how to fix the problem)
Jeremy C Johnson
October 1st, 2013

‘Twas the first of October, and all through the House
Not a Congressmen speaking save for the occasional joust.
Words were placed on their shiny Teleprompters so dear
In the hopes it would help their political career.

Though the Senators seemed worried we’d be in the red
Lovely visions of extended vacations danced in their heads.
While my wife in her Kerchief and I in my cap
Tried not to think about our tax dollars paying for this crap.

When I turned on the TV, there arose such a clatter
I sat up in my bed to see what was the matter.
Across my old TV all the marquees flashed
Government shuts down in a political clash!

Could this be a good thing? I thought to myself…
We could save a few bucks with big bro on the shelf.
But it wasn’t the waste put on notice that day
It was the parks and museums that could self-sustain.

With the Senate, Congress and IRS not shut down
All hopes of a tax break are six feet underground.
And then, as it seemed, gone as quick as it came,
Was any semblance of good in our government’s name.

capitolAnd in a twinkling I saw three apparitions
There stood Stalin, Mau and Chavez if you could envision.
Leaning over a fence (like in Star Wars) they spoke
Of the joy they felt in seeing the country we broke.

Where are Washington and Adams, and the twilight’s last gleam?
Where are Lincoln, and freedom, and the American Dream?
To the Chinese we sold out as downward we fall
And gave our cash away, thrown away, credit and all.

So I sat up and thought, with a pen in my teeth,
Of the simplest answer that I could bequeath.
When like lightning I was hit with the simple cognition
We don’t need policy change: we need new politicians.

Normal Janes and Joes, not that Harry and John
Are all bad, they just can’t seem to get the job done.
When you can raise taxes of hard-working folks
To pay for your own tax-free raise, that’s a joke.

It’s not funny, especially now that their waste
Is all piled up, crowding our personal space.
Spin your words, flash a grin, and show those dimples again—
But if you can’t speak the truth, you are ugly as sin.

So go on, guys take the millions you’ve made
In backroom deals and from us, and go find some shade
Under palm trees in the tropics, we’ll let you go.
Take your wife, take your mistresses, we’ll run the show.

Now go spring to your jets, to some air that is pure
Be the prick of a thistle on some foreign shore.
You may hear us exclaim as you fly out of sight,
Let’s be Americans again, and make this country right!

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About Paul Brodie
I'm 32 years old, married and the father of two children (though one is yet unborn, a few more weeks until he gets here). I hold B.S. and M.S. degrees in psychology. I have independently written and published five books. I have been blogging for almost four years. I currently live in Vermont, but grew up in New Jersey. I hope to launch a podcast about psychology soon. The theme is to teach undergrad psychology classes in a podcast. Open source college is the future of education.

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