“I am angry that so many sons of the powerful and well placed…managed to wangle slots in Reserve and National Guard units.” –Colin Powell on the Vietnam War, in My American Journey

With tentacles like wealthy octopi,
The well-connected didn’t have to die.
The unit’s full? We knew just what to do:
One made a call and simply jumped the queue.
Yes, keeping out of danger wasn’t really hard.
I used my daddy’s clout to hide out in the Guard.

Oppose the war? That seemed to me psychotic.
We Bushes, after all, are patriotic.
I backed the war. I wasn’t disaffected.
I served,* but safely, being well-connected.
I partied right at home; my record was unmarred.
I used my daddy’s clout to hide out in the Guard.

John Kerry’s well-connected, as you know.
But, like a sucker, he signed up to go.
So, though I wear my flight suit and I primp,
His medals made me seem to be a wimp.
While he was in a boat that Charlie could bombard,
I used my daddy’s clout to hide out in the Guard.

So Rove, sub rosa, managed to unchain
The sort of creeps who smeared my friend McCain.
With coverage that soon becomes intensive,
The valor’s smudged, the hero turns defensive.
And voters soon forget why I emerged unscarred:
I used my daddy’s clout to hide out in the Guard.

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* They say I skipped about a year of meetings,
For which I’ve faced my only kind of flak.
If you can find my records of that period,
Then you can find those weapons in Iraq.