Don't Piss Down My Back and Tell Me It's Raining

(An Obscure Ode to Mr Potato Head)

He engineered his future with precise lack of care
for the Testosterone glut that caused the loss of his hair
He speaks at great length of his limitless knowledge
Stuff that he learned while drinking at college
Of pissing in the pool and dreaming of girls
Who averted their eyes while fondling his curls
He could drink any rag-head under the table
But do not suggest his thinking’s unstable
He argues that the world is meant for the white man
But does not question why his wife uses fake tan
He’ll leave the discussion with his bull neck bristling
When dissention is cast there is no way he's listening
to views that oppose his preconceived vision
You might have noted the scar where he made the incision
And removed the all bits where the tenderness breeds
And replaced them with ignorance and bitterness seeds.
Now his curls have all gone and he’s left with his hunger
Prejudice and bigotry are dragging him under
As he runs ever faster up the down escalator
His head casting shadow - an oversized vibrator