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The Voter

 

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered Bush and Kerry,

Over many an article, editorial and ads galore,

While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,

As of some one gently rapping, rapping out, “Remember Gore.”

`'Tis some Democrat,' I muttered, `rapping out, “Remember Gore. -

Only this, and nothing more.'

 

Ah, distinctly I remember it was in a bleak November,

When each Florida punch card ballot shed its chads upon the floor.

Eagerly I wished no repeat; - vainly I had sought to retreat

From the analysts so replete with stories of his loss, “Poor Gore”

For the rare and radiant moment when I’d hear no more “Poor Gore,”

Nameless here for evermore.

 

Now the silken sad uncertain rustling of booth voting curtains

Thrilled me - filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;

For my vote was undecided at this time.  I stood repeating

`'Tis some late pollster entreating entrance at my condo door -

Some rare late pollster entreating entrance at my condo door; -

This it is, and nothing more,'

 

Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,

`Democrat or Republican, your forgiveness I implore;

Nadar brochures sent me napping, and so gently you came rapping,

And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my condo door,

Now I’ll answer all your questions.' - here I opened wide the door; -

Darkness there, and nothing more.

 

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing

Independent Greens no voter ever welcomed in before

But the silence was unbroken, and the darkness gave no token,

And the only question spoken were the whispered words, `Once more?'

’An election like 2000?” asked I.  Back I heard, `Once more?'

Merely this and nothing more.

 

Back into the condo turning, all my soul within me burning,

Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.

`Surely,' said I, `some late campaigner raps at my window lattice;

Let me see then, what their spin is, and their promises explore -

Let my heart be thrilled by pledges and their promises explore; -

'Tis hot air and nothing more!'

 

Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,

In stepped a Voter, representing all the votes of yore,

Nays for candidates who scared me, ayes for candidates who swayed me;

Votes for men and votes for ladies, votes to come 2004.

This grand voter sat beside me, waiting for 2004 -

Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

 

 

Then this Spectral Voter beguiling my sad fancy into smiling

By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance she wore

Bleak her look and long she stared at me sitting so ill- prepared that

Random picked I, (Yes I dared it!) Bush Dubya for 2004.

“Tell my why Republicans Bush should not win my vote and more?”

Quoth the Voter—“Nevermore.”

 

I marveled at this ungainly Voter to hear discourse so plainly,

Though her answer little meaning—little relevancy bore;

You mean, “You cannot help agreeing that no living thinking being

Ever yet would admit to heeding Dubya for four years more?

Remember campaign money trails from Dick Cheney to the war!”

Cried the Voter, “Nevermore!”

 

And the Voter sitting lonely by my condo door spoke only

That one word, as if her soul in that one word she did pour,

Nothing further then she uttered – not a ballot then she fluttered-

Till I scarcely more than muttered – “Other friends have tried before,

Tried to sway my vote by reason, but I’m undecided as before.”

Quoth the voter, “Nevermore!”

 

Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,

“Doubtless,” said I, “What she utters is her only stock and store,

Sent by Democratic masters when unmerciful disasters

Followed fast and followed faster when Republicans galore

Filled the Congress, passed their laws, and Democracy ignored.”

Quoth the Voter, “Nevermore.”

But the Voter still beguiling my undecided soul to smiling

Straight I questioned her on terrorists, Ben Laden and the war;

Then, with my heart sinking, I betook myself to linking

Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this Spectral Voter of yore-

Just what this grim, ungainly, gaunt, and Spectral Voter of yore

Meant in croaking, “Nevermore.”

 

This I sat engaged in guessing, with no syllable expressing

The horror of empire building, the march to the Iraqi war.

This and more I sat divining, with my head pounding, reclining.

Thought of  job markets declining now that work is shipped off shore.

Losses only silver lining allows Big Business to grow more.

This can’t happen—Nevermore!

 

Then, methought the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer

Swung by oilmen in the Arctic drilling deep and killing many score.

“Wretch!” I cried. “Killing trees God hath gave thee, raising arsenic levels for me

Respite – respite and be done ye, with your stockpiling oil stores.

The wealthy tax cuts allows fine dining, yet health care’s declining more

Quoth the Voter, “Nevermore.”

 

Saddam, said I, ‘thing of evil!-prophet still, if man or devil!

Whether Bush sent troops unsanctioned tempest tossed thee here ashore,

Desolate yet all undaunted, on that desert land enchanted-

On this homefront by horror haunted – tell me truly, I implore-

Are there – are there weapons in Iraq – tell me- tell me, I implore!”

Quote the Voter, “Nevermore.”

 

“Voter!” said, I, is Bush evil? President still, if man or devil!

By that Heaven that bends above us- by that God Bush does adore-

Bush says which couple may not marry and what child she must carry.

Are emails and the library and phone calls private any  more?

Yes! We must rise up and cry out that we can take his rule no more

Cheered the Voter, “Nevermore!”

 

“Be that our word of sign of parting, my mind is changed! I shrieked upstarting

I’m  back into the campaign before the election’s lost forevermore!

Changing  undecided votes will be  a token of my change of heart as spoken

Leave me now to plan unbroken – a quick campaign from door to door

Give me  sharp words for undecideds for my campaign  from door to door

Cheered the Voter, “Nevermore.”

 

And the Voter, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting

On a stack of paper ballots, just inside my condo door;

But my eyes have now been opened to what demon Bush is hoping

And the light from Kerry coping gives me hope for us once more;

And my vote’s not undecided.  Kerry’s got it.  That’s for sure!

Bush and Cheney - nevermore!

 
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