Mr. Larry Flynt, Teller of Turpitude, King of Horny,
You finally did something to bring me to my knees.
My jaw dropped open when I saw the cash bounty
being offered for the tax info on Mr. Mitt Romney
(who should have given us this information for free
to back up his supposed integrity).
I didn't know you'd helped unearth so much dirt,
in the past on politicians who did more than flirt,
although it seems you don't always blab or blurt,
the truth to the public which makes me feel hurt.
When you engage the public by dangling rewards;
asking janitors, clerks, bellmen, and security guards,
to show you their hands, then muck your cards,
you seem slipperier than banana peels, yet tougher than gourds.
I believe you are right that six degrees of separation,
could bring figures and facts on the financial fornication,
that is rampant among the Richie Rich's of the nation,
and could curtail one candidate's clout, hardly in gestation.
If loose lips come to you, your lips should be loose too.
Yet why should I have to say that to one as experienced as you?
Why wouldn't you want to spill the beans and screw
Romney's chances? I'm sure this time you'll spew.
May your lips find loose friends and show them love, truth bomb style!
of Rhyme Me a Smile
© 2012 Rachel Hoyt. All rights reserved
(For more information
on this news that brought me elation,
Read more rhymes by Rachel at her new column, Clickety Clack -
poetic news about Santa Barbarians talking back