XLVIII Marshall Berman
Oh! All this Marxist bull! It makes me sick!
The commie manifesto makes me puke!
We've put twelve men upon the moon, you prick!
And all were taught by grandmas. 'Twas no fluke!
American success you do rebuke;
As if our excellence was got by chance;
You're not intelligentia! You're a kook!
I wouldn't give Karl Marx a second glance.
And while you smugly danced the liberal dance;
The world was built by people in the know;
Of course you'd never once reverse your stance;
So to irrelevancy you must go.
Your communes don't produce a man of spunk.
At crunch-time, when he's needed, he'll be drunk.
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