(with some apologies to William Wordsworth)
The world is too much for them; topsy-turvy,
Through polls and insanity they lay waste their minds;
Little do they care when reality unwinds;
Bleeding hearts infected with emotional scurvy.
The left which bares a collective bosom to the moon,
While antiwar activists howl at all hours,
Has been rotting since the 60's like over-ripe flowers.
In this, like everything else, they are far out of tune;
Unmoved by truth.--Dear God! They're worse than
Pagans suckled in a creed outworn;
Living in a floating bubble;
The pride of Marx and Lenin reborn;
Rising anew from the communist century's rubble;
to once again engage the reality they scorn.