.
They’ll be coming for you soon,
Chairman Xho.
It’s an old, familiar tune that we all know.
You’ve been howlin’ at the moon
And they’ll say that you’re a loon
And you’ll bring us all to ruin,
Chairman Xho.
They’ll say that you’re their bro,
Chairman Xho.
But you know that it ain’t so,
Chairman Xho.
You’re just like all the rest,
A useful idiot, at best,
One more pest they do detest,
Chairman Xho.
.
.
Joe Tessitore is a retired New York City resident and poet.
Tersely, accurately, and humorously stated, all at once. I sense that it may match a folk tune, but it hasn’t yet occurred to me which one (?)
There is an old bluegrass song called “Diamond Joe” that sounds very similar.
Chorus: Diamond Joe, come and get me
My wife died and quit me
Diamond Joe, come and get me, Diamond Joe
It’s hard to know whether this illegitimate president Biden is a conscious traitor, or just incurably stupid.
I strongly suspect that the Chairman will turn out to be irrelevant in all of this and sooner rather than later.
Must those two choices be mutually exclusive? I think it’s possible that there’s a sense in which they are chronological.
Joe, Cynthia had commented on this being an old folk tune and it certainly has musicality. There is an old English folk song called “Sam Hall” which probably crossed the pond to become something else, and has a similar lilt. Enjoyed this very much. Thank you.
Very cool that you picked up on the music as you read it. It was certainly there as I wrote it – something like a banjo accompaniment for “She’ll Be Coming Around the Mountain”.
Fun — thanks for letting me know! Yes, that was the only specific tune that I thought of a bit later.
Mr. Tessitore likewise seems “focused like a laser beam on the imminent collapse of freedom…in blitzkrieg mode.”
Be careful, Joe, or before you know it they’ll be coming for you. Bear in mind that, nowadays, the most most egregious crime is speaking the truth. Socrates found this out, and so have many others through the ages.
It may well be in the offing.
Lately, everyone I meet tells me to be safe.
‘Dem Bones
The story of these bones is clear –
More than one deer was butchered here.
Hung from this limb, then skinned and bled
By him the hunter, long since dead.
Not more than a stone’s throw away,
Just down the hill, the man does lay
In yonder grave – I think it queer
His bones should lie so very near.
From that same limb now hangs a swing
And on that swing grandchildren sing
The lilting rhymes that I once knew –
My bones tell me he knew them too.
What a pleasure to write about something else!
Joe, I love it, especially when it’s sung out loud with all the might the lusty lungs can afford… it really helps with my BDS.