Inspector General                     [part 1 of my political trilogy]

 

An original poem by Chrome Dome Mike Kimbro

 

Consider reading along to my Spoken Verse Performance.

 

 

VERSE 1

 

Imagine a world where the suspects,

 

Of wrong doing must first give their permission.

 

Before oversight occurs. The effect,

 

Would be like requiring admission.

 

 

VERSE 2

 

Police have what's called Internal Affairs.

 

They strive to see that misdeeds are twarted.

 

Regarded by their peers as a bunch of squares,

 

But now they pray screw ups aren't reported.

 

 

VERSE 3

 

Might some feel their kind faces extinction,

 

Based on the government's experience?

 

Falling from a place of great distinction.

 

When those focused on become furious.

 

 

CHORUS #1

 

Inspector General!

 

Who do you think you are?!?

 

Inspector General!

 

Squaring off against a czar!?!

 

From the moment you blundered,

 

Your employment days were numbered.

 

Mr. Inspector General

 

 

BRIDGE

 

You have to assume, that in Hollywood,

 

A screenwriter's chances improve highly.

 

If they embrace the current "right and wrong".

 

 

Execs are now thinking it might be good,

 

That a story line's about an IG,

 

Who learns of malfeasance, but plays along.

 

 

VERSE 4

 

To Trump employees, better act with restraint,

 

When told: "While you're here, why don't you mow my lawn."

 

Consider that if you file a complaint,

 

The Inspector General might be gone.

 

 

VERSE 5

 

Cause pink slips are handed out briskly,

 

They count four since COVID-19 started.

 

While you'd think retaliation would be risky.

 

Old Rush Limbaugh doesn't care who departed.

 

 

CHORUS #2

 

Inspector General!

 

Who do you think you are?!?

 

Inspector General!

 

Squaring off against a czar!?!

 

From the moment you blundered,

 

Your employment days were numbered.

 

What was experienced by you,                                      

 

Let's me stretch the rhyme with 'umbered'.

 

Definition: Given a brownish hue.

 

Since your office has been shit upon.

 

The Office of the Inspector General.

 

The End

 

Copyright © Michael Kimbro 2020.  All rights reserved.