General Discussion

There once was a fellow quite vexed
By documents awkwardly indexed.
So he coughed and he spluttered,
Prevaricated, muttered—
And hoped we’d all look to the next.

When whispers of Epstein rang loud,
He posted to rile up the crowd.
With outrage designed
To distract and misdirect the mind,
He hoped the old headlines might be cowed.

To Georgia a messenger sped,
With stories that raised every head.
Ballots, warehouses, claims—
A confusion of aims—
Yet the files stayed annoyingly read.

“Let’s nationalize!” he declared,
“Where elections are crooked and bared.”
It was bold, it was stark,
Lit a serious spark—
Still the subject he wanted was spared.

But last came a post, cruel and vile,
So ugly it froze every smile.
A line should be drawn
When humanity’s gone—
That stunt shocked the heart of the aisle.

So on spun the noise and the flame,
Each gambit more frantic in aim.
When someone works this hard
To keep one thing charred,
You wonder what truth feeds the shame.

When certain old names resurfaced,
His timeline grew noisily laced
With remarks so profound
They were hard to expound,
Yet subtlety wasn’t embraced.

To Georgia an envoy was sent,
With a mission not clearly meant.
Some ballots appeared,
Some eyebrows were reared—
Still the matter at hand wouldn’t relent.

“Elections,” he said, “need a tweak—
In a dozen odd places, unique.”
It was stated with flair,
Somewhat thin on the care,
And ignored by the files, rather cheeky.

Then billions were briskly discussed,
As though fiscal restraint were a must.
If the public must pay,
Well, what’s three hundred, eh?
A small price for a cause built on trust.

At last came a post most unwise,
That landed with collective sighs.
One might gently observe
It displayed little nerve—
And rather too much in the eyes.

So on went the dance and the din,
Each gambit more eager to win.
When one works this hard
To seem terribly scarred,
One wonders what’s lurking within.