Ballad of a Super Tuesday Sultry Seniors Voters Quandary

The following poem was inspired by a real-life incident, and is not intended to generalize or stereotype anyone or any group of persons. I just found the inspiring individuals humorous and rather cute in their dialogue!

Today was the primary

so I went out to vote

and onto the ballot

my choice did get wrote.

But while I was standing

in line to get out

a crisply dressed senior

conversed with her friend in a shout,

“Who you voting for

this year, my old friend?

To send to the White House

when Obama’s Presidency ends?”

Her friend mused a moment

and licked her rouged lips

and pushed up her girdle

that had started to slip.

“Well, Romney is plastic

and Santorum’s too young, though he’s cute

but you can trust I'll vote nothing

for that chubby vain Newt!”

“Ah,” said her companion,

“Santorum's such a choir boy

and I can’t go for Romney,

His muscles look steroid,

I can’t go for Gingrich,

for just as you said,

he’s blustery and chubby

and looks like my Ex, Fred.”

As I neared closer the door

these two nodded and agreed,

that neither of their votes

would go for one of these three.

Then the first one said-

her words were not minced-

“There’s only one thing

we can do with good sense.”

“I should have realized, too,”

admitted the other,

“that fine faces and hard abs

just aren’t worth our bother!”

The first one tut-utted

and admitted right then,

“We should vote with conscience

not be shallow, my friend.”

Just before I parted

and stepped through the door,

I heard their self-reproaches,

in sighs that did pour.

Then the two both nodded

at a conclusion now found

and I heard them both exclaim

with enthusiasm unbound,

“For Ron Paul, then,

our sage votes must be cast

for he may be wrinkled like us,

but damn, he's sure got a sweet ass!”

©March 6, 2012 by Beth Perry