A stupidity so strong as to defy gravity itself.
Logic so twisted it makes pretzels envious.
Ladies and gentlemen, an ode to the one (and thank $Diety, the only) Michele Bachmann.
O Michele, you of dubious wit,
Some say you're crazy, others think you a twit.
You schlep around DC with nary a care,
Devoid of common sense, with a head full of hot air.
From what demented place do your 'ideas' take off?
You seemingly spend more time on your coif.
To exist in your world must truly be a fright,
Methinks your tin foil be wrapp'd a bit tight.
Your grasp of government is tenuous at best,
Most sane people wish you'd give it a rest.
Black helicopters, stormtroopers, you wax Don Quixotic,
A physician I'm not, but you sound quite psychotic.
'Tis a wonder you manage to arise each day,
With all the nefarious plots apparently in play.
One cannot avoid looking into your eyes,
They seem frozen in fear - and three times their size!
What wretches be those who follow your lead,
Such simpering sheep, to believe your foul screed.
"He's an Arab! A terrorist! A Communist!" you screeched.
Alas, with logic, you cannot be reached.
Such receptacles of silliness, both you and your ilk.
You're pure ratings gold, Faux News' mother's milk.
Your minds too closed to recognize the truth,
'Tis truly a tragedy, alas, alack, and forsooth.