Politics

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Confessions of a Senile Senator
By Dean Beaty 11/18/10

All of my brain waves have all waved good-bye.
The bats in my belfry, these too will fly.
The web is still there but the spider took leave.
I think that I saw him craw down my sleeve.

My elevator stops short of the uppermost floor.
Even my gray matte doesn’t matter no more.
This getting senile just isn’t much fun.
I’d end it all but I can’t find my gun.

The loft is now empty, there’s not any hay.
These once golden years are now a dull gray.
I feel lightheaded cause there aint nothing there.
If my head were a cupboard, it too would be bear.

There’s not much I can do, this truth I confess.
There’s only one choice I’ll run for congress.
The initials D.C. have a new meaning alas.
They stand for Dumb Cluck by the laws that they pass.

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