Poor Mark Shea couldn’t make the Pussy March.
The Demiurge of Hostile Circumstance
Hung no pink welcome sign upon the arch
That Mark might stride through with his great clown pants.
With other pussies he could not advance—
Not on the day when pussies were supreme.
He couldn’t explicate his pussy stance.
He didn’t realize his pussy dream.
But let not sympathy grow too extreme!
A tear for Mark, perhaps, we ought to shed—
But only one. Things aren’t quite what they seem,
Nor are Mark’s pussy aspirations dead.
Good news I dare proclaim. Mark Shea fans, hear it!
Being a pussy, he was there in spirit.
Behold the Pussy Marchers and despair,
All you who thought your guy won the election!
The Pussy Marchers, just by being there,
Effect a change and make a quick correction!
How clever and how classy this collection
Of gals (and of associated guys)!
Those pink hats aren’t vague symbols of affection:
They utter forth a rage of titan size!
Now Trump will hear the roars – or, well, the cries.
Now Trump will know how Cher and Ashley Judd
And fierce Madonna feel. Don’t roll your eyes,
Observer: this resistance ain’t no dud!
If Trump declines to bow and say amen,
These will return to wail and weep again.
What Democrats have done in Baltimore
is not, of course, the fault of Democrats.
Just ask the President: out from his store
of wisdom, you accusatory rats,
he will refute you! Making up the stats,
he will prove that the problem’s slavery.
If you fail to accept this view, you’re bats.
All of the pundits breathlessly agree.
Rioters only seek equality.
Just give them all your money, and you’re fine–
or, if you’re not, you don’t deserve to be.
They torched your business, did they? Hey, don’t whine!
Things will improve for everyone the day
that you elect more Democrats. Okay?