Upon Hearing a Choral Performance at an Episcopal Church

 

 

 

UPON HEARING A CHORAL PERFORMANCE AT AN EPISCOPAL CHURCH

 

I am Episcopalian

The Queen of the Cotillion

I think I am Chuchillian

I’m Drenched in gold bullion

 

I’m old money, of course

We sorts nobly discourse

On the stigma and source

Of the Jewish remorse

 

Why can’t they aspire

To sing in the choir

Till the day they expire

Will they continue to sire

 

Unwashed swarthy hordes

Fail to sound our high chords

Do not curtsy to our lords

Awaiting Heaven’s rewards

 

For speech Christian and clipped

Like buttocks quivering and whipped

Measured, mannered – dead as a crypt

Like old German gothic script

 

Speaking of penmanship, ours is fine

Elegant, stately and feline

Our ideation’s asinine

But stylistically we’re sublime

 

Copyright, David Gottfried, 1998

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Bill Clinton — Body and Soul

Writtten Upon Hearing that Bill Clinton Injured a Tendon

 

All the tendons in Clinton playing tennis

Like the tinsel on a trumpet for a present

Will quiver and quake

And suddenly break

He’s the antithesis of cement

 

Without the fortitude of farina

All ferment utterly flaccid

He has not a spine

To stout whiskey wine

We imbibe and feel rather placid

 

When he speaks you smell the ribs

Of Lyndon Johnson’s barbeques

With the hint

Of sickly mint

And Gomer Pyles pot liquor stews

 

Copyright, David Gottfried, 1997


Satire on the 1996 Presidential Candidates

 

 

Doleful Dole so forelorn

Shows his scorn like Monday morn

He always eats his Kansas corn

Grim and Glum his life’s lovelorn

 

Cracker Gram likes his grits

But he hates his wife’s small tits

So he looks for tarts sans wits

To star in pornorgraphic flics

 

Pat Buchanan’s rough and wild

And truly hates the time and mild

Did you see he has no child

He’s really one with Oscar Wilde

 

Mister Lugar’s really swell

He says his flannel shirt does smell

He’ll give you all the rebel yell

He takes millions and gives us hell

 

Allan Keyes is pretty keen

On family values, keeping clean

But he really loves to preen

He’s such a screaming drama queen

 

And now young Forbes is up at bat

He says he wants a tax rate flat

He really wants his chests down pat

He’s gay like Daddy, the little bra

 

And what’s in Hillary’s bag of tricks

Saws to cut off Republican pricks

You know she’s a dominatrix

Hark her heels thunderous clicks

 

Copyright, David Gottfried, 1996


A Parody of the 2004 Presidential Election

A Parody of the 2004 Presidential Election

 

 

Howard Dean is venting spleen

Reminiscent of clean for Gene

He demonstrates the war’s obscene

But seems completely naive, green

 

Ms. Carol Moseley Braun

Hasn’t either brains or brawn

Just a cipher and a spawn

Of Shirley Chisolm’s splendid dawn

 

Al Sharpton is our buffoon

He screams and shouts like a saloon

His rhythmic speech is in tune

His mind’s as massive as a prune

 

Richard Gephardt wants health for all

And sounds to me like seconol

His recitations can’t enthrall

When he talks he seems to crawl

 

Mr. Graham keeps copious notes

On every fact he duly dotes

He stores them up until he bloats

A mind of arcane things and quotes

 

Kucinich is a kind of witch

Speaking in a fevered pitch

Sowing enmity stitch by stitch

He’ll be pacified when he’s rich

 

Lieberman’s no oberman

Just a mensch, a gentleman

But what pray tell is his plan

Just Bush-lite sans the klan

 

John Kerry, patrician, pure

Finds many things he does abjure

And in his speech he will obscure

The compromises that nix the cure

 

John Edwards has flowing hair

That apes the locks of Bobby fair

Professes to care for our despair

His pabulum makes me want to swear

 

But Rumsfeld and his little rascals

Woolfowitz and assorted jackals

Herald war with happy cackles

Their raging hate simmers, crackles

 

And King George is feeling swell

He gives us all the rebel yell

The poor consigned to hottest hell

The liberty bell sounds its death knell

 

Copyright, David Gottfried, 2003


Lewdness in Public

 

 

All the panties on parade

Promenading in the park

See them hitched really high

Oh they never miss their mark

 

See the nylons, see the spandex

See flesh squeezed till it hurts

Its a fruit about to burst

And it screams please do me first

 

When the fabric’s very black

And the skin is white and smooth

It begs for men quite crude

And says Sir be  uncouthe

 

Oh be lewd, use no lube

Make that ass be harassed

Plunge the dagger of dick

Hard and heartless and so fast

 

Copyright, David Gottfried, 2008


Post Modernism and Verbal Masturbation

 

 

POST MODERNISM AND VERBAL MASTURBATION

 

 

Derrida doth declaims

And denounces and derides

Forcefully he declares

The great void:  It abides

 

Derrida doth defames

And debates and decides

Truth he flatly disavows

All succor he overrides

 

Derrida doth dissents

His diatribes duly deny

The diabolic in Iraq

He doesn’t care if a million die

 

Derrida doth he dither

To determine, to deploy

His declinations to do justice

Are derelictions he’ll enjoy

 

Derrida doth dissuades

And deters and detains

The force of morals, meaning, love

With savage reason he arraigns

 

Copyright, David Gottfried, 2004


My Civil Procedure Professor in Law School

 

 

 

Estreicher, Estreicher, not like a hitch hiker

Rotund, and courtly, he’s far from a biker

Imperious, invidious he sends cads to Rikers

He stands august as mercy’s denier

 

Estreicher, Estreicher never feels wholly well

And thus endeavors to impart howling hell

Speaking quite sternly he thinks he’s Cromwell

Where oh where does this madman dwell.

 

Estreicher, Estreicher, may eat pheasant and porridge

And tell the poor urchins they’ll just have to forage

His waist is so large he’ll ride in a carriage

He binds intellect to avarice in unholy marriage

 

Copyright, David Gottfried, 2006