Oh GWB, just where would you be in early '73?
Testing your bong on a year long tour with cheech and chong?
While others still fought the viet cong!
Leading no life of danger, you were no airborne ranger!
You were not flying a combat helicopter. Were you in need of a head doctor?
You were not a drinking minor. Were you really protecting the beers of shiner?
Were you ciudad acuna and boystown bound? Drinking and acting like a clown?
Were you giving bar girls lots of hugs? While you were developing your personal plan for prescription drugs?
Did we see you with a major league joint? Did you simply say, "rats, so what's your point?"
Were you year long being a rolling stone? Or, were you simply year long stoned?
Were you ultra mellow? Because your natural color is yellow?
Did you simply say bye bye? Because you were flying really high?
Just how did you get that presidential citation? Were you trying to supply the whole nation?
George w, was this just? Or, were you just a wuss?
How did you not attend air force o.t.s.? Did you suffer from chronic p.m.s.?
Were you dazed and confused? While the rest of us were plainly used!
Were you in need of a wet nurse? And, lots of money from mommy's purse?
Of that flight physical you did not take, just what of this are we to make?
Was there something in your body? That show up only when you potty?
Just what was that white powder packet, that kept falling out of your flight jacket?
Sadly, it must plainly be, gwb, that you are -- totally fubar!
Written in tribute by one of your own to all non-AWOL vietnam era latrine poet laureates who served with honor, and with the talent to always spot a b.s. artist no matter his rank, wealth, family, political connections, or any of the other qualities that will always endear them to us!
(poem copyright Mark Hubert, "The Latrine Poet Laureate")