The Election

The Election

The object of my affection, is to win this election
And oust that ornery old cuss
He’s been there so long; he’s obliged to moved on
‘Cause he’s defiled the public’s trust

Do not take an obscure view; his ouster is overdue
He’s eating from the proverbial barrel of pork
We’ll nail him to the wall, celebrate his recall
Plug his mouth with a super sized cork

He’s always been oblique, as if colored with batik
But soon he’ll be clear as glass
He’ll stand up before us all, as we wait his downfall
Then we’ll see if he’ll pass

When the floor falls under, with the ominous thunder
He’ll know it’s time to go
To sail the tide once more, cross the bar to the golden door
Oh, but little does he know

The door will evade his crew; they’ll struggle to sail through
Straining their backs they’ll row
But a saint in ecclesiastical attire, will point him to the fires
And slowly he’ll sink into the glow


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Words required to be used by "Para/Poem Challenge "Open""  in this poem:
         Object...Oust...Oblige...Obscure...Oblique...Ornery