Each President had favorite foods that we
Identify with him. We still can see
Dick Nixon following some global crise While pouring ketchup on his cottage cheese.
Those grits were loved by Carter best of all–
For eating or for Spackle-ing a wall.
And Reagan, though his mind might wander far
In meetings, he could focus on that jar
Of jelly beans and know just where he was.
Bill Clinton, doing what a bad boy does,
Ignored what all the doctors had advised him
And ate Big Macs until they supersized him.
For LBJ so many ‘cue pits burned,
It looked as if the British had returned.
Bush One? By eating pork rinds and not crêpe, he
Believed we wouldn’t see him as a preppy.
So what does this Bush eat? We just don’t know
We do know, though, what he won’t eat is crow–
As if some allergy or something makes
Him sprout a rash if he admits mistakes.
“Just have a taste,” say critics of the war.
“It’s much like quail, which you and Dick adore.
One bite? This dish is yummy, and homemade.
Admit it was an error to invade.”
He won’t eat crow. No crow. No, not a bite.
He’s never wrong, cause Jesus makes him right.
“Just taste,” they say. “We’ve added some Tabasco.
Eat crow and put an end to this fiasco.”
Bush says, “I’m hungry. I could eat a horse,
But not a crow. We have to stay the course.”
“This course is crow,” they say. “If you’ll just try,
We’ll get you for dessert some humble pie.”