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O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells;
Rise up—for you the flag is flung—for you the bugle trills,
For you bouquets and ribbon’d wreaths—for you the shores a-crowding,
For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning;
Here Captain! dear father!
This arm beneath your head!
It is some dream that on the deck,
You’ve fallen cold and dead.

Thursday, April 28, 2011

Open Letter

White House
re: the release of your Long Form Birth Certificate

Dear Mr. President,

Please, sir, stop feeding the Trolls.

Kthxbai,
Me

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