Kill the President
(100 verses per page) Continued next
page
By Pip Wilson
Part 1
[Verse 1] The First Lady sleeps, President Lumwedder creeps
to the fridge for a snack at midnight.
Froot Loops in a bowl, a banana, bread roll,
so ... down the mouth hole with little control,
and everythings feelin'
all right!
That amiable grin, that milk on his chin,
his customary ease with bananas,
the President's proud, "I ain't one of the crowd"
he says it aloud "I ain't one of the crowd,
and no one can fill these pajamas.
"I'm Irving Lumwedder, ain't nobody better.
Man, I'm smokin'!! That's nothin! I'm bitchin!
I'm loaded with sass, I'm the toppest of brass!
I'm the greatest, I'm gas, I'm jumpin' Jack Flash,
I'm the Chief of the damn Oval Kitchen!
"The hell did I say? It's the U.S.of A!
I'm boss of the whole goddamn nation!
I'm King of the Heap! I ain't even asleep!"
Then, not even a peep, on tip-toes he creeps
to the Oval Room of Rumpus Relaxation.
He pulls up a seat and he puts up his feet
on the Presidential voting machine.
Then with a "Oops!!" he wipes up some Loops
and then "Double oops! Watch out for the snoops!"
And he picks up a Time magazine.
The snoops make him nervous, the damn Secret Service,
and one's stuck his head in the door:
"Everything OK, Mr President?" "Fuckin' 'A',
bet your life, AOK! Never better! OK!
Go do what you was doin' before."
"Ten-four, Mr Prez", the SS guy says,
"So
goodnight sir
but just one last thought "
"Uh huh?" says Lumwedder. "Sir, hadn't I better
maybe get you a sweater?" Says Lumwedder "No sweater,
but you could help me
I think my foot's caught."
Part 2
The pink glow of dawn lights the Rose Garden lawn
and streams through the Rumpus Room curtain.
The President seems to be lost in a dream
and his reveries seem in his Time magazine ...
though with Irving it's hard to be certain.
It's really unnerving how President Irving
Lumwedder, for what seems like ages,
the mighty Commander-in-Chief of the land,
with Time on his hands and countenance bland
is staring at one of the pages.
[10] It isn't the "Re-views", the US or World News
captivating the Head of the Nation;
not the Op-Ed, nor Features, nor beautiful creatures
on advertisement beaches, nor one of his speeches
that holds him in rapt fascination.
"Well, dang me!" he mutters, his spirit now flutters
as he stares in a manner approving.
(May the cynics repent of their hearts made of flint,
for his eyes fairly squint at a page of hard print
not cartoons.) "Dang! These critters are moving"
For the first time, Lumwedder has noticed the letters
and numbers alive on the page.
A K kicks a goal over H, and the hole
of an O is a bowl of Froot Loops, or bread roll,
or a ring and thus Irving's engaged
for five or ten minutes he's quite lost within it,
abandoned to truths newly seen.
"A fairground of letters!" laughs Irving Lumwedder,
"Why, hell, this is better than TV much better!
And it's all in this Time magazine."
The Prez asks himself "Does it work somewhere else?
Or only in Time magazine?
Let's see? What's this book? Hmmm ... 'I'm Not a Crook'.
OK, let's take a look, it might work in this b "
"Meester President, do you want me to clean?"
"Oh shit! I mean ... sure. Didn't hear the dang door!"
"Ees OK sir, I do it maρana."
"No, come in, Maria. Now listen, see here,
do you see this, Maria? Do the letters seem queer?"
"No sir. Aiiyy! You sit in banana?!"
"Goddang it, I'm sorry." "Ees OK, no worry.
And the Froot Loops, you finished them, si?"
"Yes, thank you my dear. But listen, Maria,
just look over here. Do you see something queer?"
"In the White House I never queer see."
Says the President "I see" and Maria says "Si,
I see." "You do see?" "See ... sometheeng in it?"
"Si, Maria, see?" "No sir, I no see."
"Maria, I say 'see', not say 'si'" "Si, sir, si
... I no see."
... And so on for several minutes.
Part 3
"Just a tad redder" says First Lady Hedda
to her hairdressers Chanteuse and Kevin.
"Last week the Chief said 'Better dyed red than dead'
(or something he said). Oh, he wasn't in bed,
he musta waked up 'fore eleven.
"He's sure actin' funny, I declare oh, say, honey
not so tight now! You'll make me go bald!
Do you think that I'm grayin'? You know, he's been sayin' "
"Scuse 'scuse me, may'am," says SS John Graham,
"May'am, 'scuse me, the President called.
[20] "He asked could you come to the Lunch Hall at one."
Here Hedda Lumwedder seems pleased.
"Thank you ... thanks, Johnny. Oh dear, lookit honey.
Say, don't it look funny, this color's all runny
do you think that this curl should be teased?"
Part 4
Come one, and come all, to the great Dining Hall,
First Lady, two maids and a few
PR's of the day, an Appointments PA,
an Ointments PA and three RQTJ's
(and nobody knows what they do).
Whatever their job is, they brighten the lobbies
and halls of the house of the Presidents
(this Castle of Common, this Home of the True Man,
the True Man and Woman, of the Rights of the Human).
Your typical American residence.
"President Lumwedder where is he?" asks Hedda
Lumwedder, to Graham and Purvis.
"In the Oval Bathroom," says Purvis, "... I assume.
Every day around noon he hides in that room "
"And may'am," interrupts Graham, "we're nervous,
"'cause Purvis and me, we go get him, you see,
at one on the dot it's an order.
But the last month or so, he's been ... well ... kinda ... you know ...
kinda ... reluctant ... to go, in the middle of his ... show "
"His show?" "Yes may'am, his show. His camcorder."
"What the hell are you sayin'?! Purvis, tell me what Graham
what the Sam Hill he's sayin'! Is he queer?
A camcorder? Like ... pictures? Oh Lordy, that's rich!
You damn sons o' bitches! You say he takes pictures?
Of what?!" "... Of hisself. In the mirror."
"What nekkid?" "No, may'am," says Agent John Graham.
"Not nekkid? Well thank Jeeeezuz!" laughs Hedda.
"Injun suit," mumbles Graham. "Say what?!" "Indian,
may'am.
He's taken to playin' like a Injun, and prayin'
he's been prayin' a lot, in them feathers."
Now, this First Lady never was one who would ever
make a fuss like an Eleanor or Hillary,
or even like Nancy, be seen to get antsy.
She's nothing too fancy, a bit of a pansy
but when she explodes ... field artillery!
"Camcorder, you say. And a show. Every day.
Well I'll give him a show, and that's that!
Stand aside, let me through, I know what to do "
"And what will you do?" whispered Irving "To who?"
John salutes. "Mr President! (Sir ... your Geronimo hat.)"
"I'm partial to these feathers," smiles Irving Lumwedder
with the air of a saint. "Yup, they're stayin'."
Says Hedda, "Lumwedder, you can't wear them feathers!
Your head's sick. Well I never!" "Hedda, I never felt better.
Come into the john, I'll explain."
Part 5
[30]
"Irving," says Hedda in the john to Lumwedder,
'I'm worried, you're actin' so strange.
Oh, it's not just the hat, or what you did to the cat
of that nice diplomat. We got over that "
"Darlin' I ain't gone deranged ... I've just changed."
"Just changed? Oh, no, honey, you been actin' real funny.
Even Maria, she said you've gone weird.
She says you just stare. If you're having an affair! "
"No Hedda! I swear! I just ... stare in the air ...
or at ... writin'." "(Lord, it's worse than I feared.)
"You been tootin' again? You messin' with cocaine?
I'm tellin' you plain, you no-brainer "
"Honey, let me explain. There ain't no cocaine
and no maryjane. And my brain ain't insane.
If you ask me, ain't never been saner.
"Look, darlin', look here. No, in the mirror, see here.
Do you see it? In the mirror? Ain't it queer?"
"Irving, what you sayin'? You sayin' your grayin'?"
"Well, sorta. Decayin'. Yeah, that's it, decayin'.
Hey! Purvis and Graham, come in here!
"Good. Purvis and Graham, come in, we ain't prayin'.
That's it, good, now don't be afraidy.
Now, what did you say? Graham, just the other day.
Purvis, you saw the decay. I just want you to say
what you said to me ... tell the First Lady."
Nothing in the Service trained Cletus Merle Purvis
for whatever the President was playing.
"Well, sir ... decayin' ..." Then butts in John Graham,
"I remember him saying 'Mr President, decaying
is natural, like a good chicken laying.'"
The President quickens: "That's it!! Cletus's chickens!
Exactly! The chickens! Precisely!!
I've been tryin' so hard and my security guard ...
my praetorian guard with his fine chicken yard,
what I stumble to say, he says nicely!
"Hedda, do you see? It's plain as can be!
It's sure clear to Johnny and Cletus.
With something like that here John, take my hat
Hedda, something like that is where it's all at.
If we got it, no enemy can beat us!!
"Good! We're all one. Now, I gotta run.
I got a media conference at three."
And with that, and "What fun!" he turns and he runs
out the door, then he comes quickly back in "Say, hun,
where's that hat? Thanks! Gotta look good for TV!!"
Part 6
"OK," says the Chief "so, boys, what's the brief?"
The speechwriters shuffle and squirm.
"So where are they, guys, your elegant lies?
Words that mesmerize, words that help to disguise
what we've done in our term. What was that about 'worm'?"
[40]
Speechwriter Dan Wright looks a little uptight:
"'Cold hopes swarm like worms within our living clay.'
Shelley's words, Mr Prez." "Well Dan," Irving says
"Dan, that's why I am the Prez, and why Shelly ... why she's
still on the switchboard on 80 a day.
"But ... it ain't bad, ain't bad ... hmmm, ain't too bad at all.
I like what it says about clay!
Dan, get me stuff about soil." "Sir? Stuff about soil?
And not about oil?" "No Dan, soil, not oil.
From now on it's soil and decay.
"Alright, you speech guys, from today, no more lies.
Listen up and get wise, things have changed.
At 3 o'clock today, I got somethin' to say,
on soil. And decay. So waddya say?
Guys, waddya think?" They think "So it's true. He's deranged."
Laughs Irving, "Hey hey! Gotta get on my way!
Let's meet before 3 in the Garden."
He skips on his way and Wright notices Graham,
Agent John Graham, in a whisper he's saying
in his lapel "Tail the Chief? Beg your pardon?"
Part 7
Two forty-five and the garden's alive
with the hum and the buzz of the press:
CNN, NBC, Business Week and AP,
Asia Times, ABC, Melbourne Age, MTV,
Reuters Deutschland, Tulsa World, CBS.
Yes, the whole box and dice of the whole Fox, and nice
to see independent media represented:
there's a journal Murdoch's tried to buy out for Fox,
but this boy on the box has hung onto his stocks.
Every takeover bid Kids has prevented.
Kids is a monthly, the Brinkley and Huntley,
the Woodward and Bernstein, Fallaci,
the Peter Arnett of the under-12 set,
and there never was yet journalistic cadet
like Tim, tip-toes 'neath the press glitterati.
In back of the podium Irving's in odium,
being held in opprobrium by the speechwriting crew.
"Four minutes to three, where the hell can he be?"
says Dan "How can we write a speech when all he
does is glance for a minute or two?
"And we had to toil on a speech about soil!
What more can he do to unnerve us?"
The other speech guys all agree with Dan Wright,
"There he is!" says Chuck Fleiss, "Jeezus, so many spies."
(Their affectionate name for "the Service".)
"My God, look at that!" chuckles Chuck, "Check the hat!
The Chief is a damn Cherokee."
"No, Chuck," chuckles Dan, "I'm sure it's Cheyenne."
Then a Secret Service man, who's been listening, says "Man,
you crew is crazy. That headdress is Cree."
[50] "Who cares if it's Pawnee, Kickapoo or damn Shawnee."
Dan's fuming: "If he thinks that he's Tonto "
With earphone in ear Agent Graham appears,
and looking severe: "Wright! Fleiss! Over here!
The Chief wants the soil speech and pronto!"
"Hey, don't get uptight," says speechwriter Wright,
"He's mounting the podium, man.
Too late for it now, so don't have a cow ...
look, he's taking a bow. He's starting to speak now.
Let's go hear the Great Man," sniffles Dan.
Part 8
The media assembling, Lumwedder resembling
Sitting Bull, now a sheer disbelief
nay, horror descends on the women and men
of the press, and just then, a hush happens when
he strides in with yes 'Hail to the Chief'.
The folks of the press all attempt to suppress
gasps and laughter. "Is he a Mohican?"
asks Stan Brown from AP. "Chickasaw, looks to me"
says Ms NBC. "Shhh!!!" says an agent. "It's Cree."
Says Irving, "Mah fellow Americans ..."
For Timmy Mundine, from Kids magazine
today his career's culminated.
"Can't get any better," he thinks, "there's Lumwedder!
And that looks like Hedda. But where are her feathers?
I spose that she ain't 'nitiated."
The Prez clears his throat. "I'll depart from the notes
of my writers. Do you think we can cope?
Heh heh, just like Lincoln," the President's winking,
"I know what you're thinkin', that Abraham Lincoln
wrote a speech on some old envelope."
The press likes his wit and giggles a bit.
Grins Lumwedder, "Couldn't find me no letter.
So I wrote down some stuff, on my sleeve weren't too tough.
It's a bit 'off the cuff', heh heh, sure enough."
The press is amused. Not so Hedda.
"Now, my friends here we go, I want you to know
this ain't no press conference, not exactly.
It's a keynote address, you could say more or less,
and I'll give it my best, men and women of the press,"
says the President matter-of-factly.
"See, there's this factor. The dang 'modal bacter'.
I don't wanna bushwhack ya ... but it's gotta be covered.
Hands up if it's new. Hmm ... OK ... quite a few.
Uh-huh. Golly. Whew! This ain't easy to do,
to explain all this stuff I've discovered.
"OK. Modal bacter. Hmmm ... ever seen how a tractor,
when it turns up the soil, how it ... OK. Nuh.
That ain't my meanin'. OK ... you know when it's rainin'
it fills up the drain and nahh, that ain't explainin'.
But you follow me, don't you? Uh-huh??"
[60] A frisson of stress ripples right through the press,
obsessed, more or less, to guess what they hear.
"Scuse me? What's he saying? This address is in mayhem!
It's a mess. Is he playing?" Backstage, wireless John Graham
whispers "Yes, Mister S", and presses his ear.
Lumwedder's aware of the buzz in the air
so he cranks up his decibel rate.
"I'd just like to mention ..." But the crowd is in tension.
"May I have your attention, please, Fourth Dimension.
I mean, men and women of the Second Estate!"
Too late. Now the crowd is uneasy and loud,
about three notches short of hysteria.
"Dumb as a box of rocks," says a shock jock
and accidentally knocks Timmy right off his box,
so Tim climbs the nearest wisteria.
Says Timmy "Much better!" Then Irving Lumwedder
spots the boy halfway up the wisteria.
"My friends of the press, do you like my headdress?
I can tell you're impressed. Now, my friends, let me stress,
today we are talking ... bacteria.
"So please don't walk out, can we just talk about
modal bacter, and a bit about worms?"
The hubbub dies down. Some ageing hack with a frown
tries to write it all down: "Today, dressed like a clown,
the Commander in Chief discussed germs."
One arm round the wisteria, Tim jots down "Bacteria.
Just like in the ads. Bathroom walls."
Says the chief "Now listeria, that's a superior bacteria!
It's in the cafeteria " Just then the kid in the wisteria
loses his grip, starts to slip, then he falls.
Below is a faucet. Now, being a faucet, of course it
is dripping. Tim lands with a "thud!".
All as one, at the sound, all the press turn around
when the boy hits the ground. "He's not injured," says Brown.
"No blood. Just a whole lot of mud."
Alarmed, now the Chief has to cut short his speech.
"Hey, bring that boy up to the podium!"
Tim's embarrassed but proud and thinks out aloud,
"Way cool!" Purvis shouts "Make way!" and the crowd
settles down to a low pandemonium.
With Tim on the stage, Irving asks "What's your age?"
and even the hardest hacks soften.
"I'm twelve, sir," Tim says, and, smiling, the Prez
asks "What part of the press?" "I'm from Kids," Timmy says.
Says Irving, "I read your work often!
"So come on inside." Tim quivers with pride
with the presidential hand on his shoulder.
"And bring your recorder. Tim, all them reporters
their thinking's disordered. They knew what they oughta
at your age, but then they got ... older.
[70] "Don't mean to be intrusive, but d'you want an exclusive?"
"You bet!" says young Timmy Mundine.
"OK, follow me to the Oval TV
Room, just you and me (and an agent or three)
and the scoop is for Kids magazine."
And then he addresses the folks of the press:
"Well thank you, dear friends, for all coming.
Let's do it again. Every now and then.
That's it. See ya then. Not quite sure when."
And he leads Timmy offstage, while humming.
The press can't believe that they all have to leave
and it's left them confused and irate.
But the Prez turns around and their spirits rebound
and you can't hear a sound but their hopes are unfounded:
"Folks, on your way out, shut the gate."
Part 9
Inside, Irving Lumwedder says "Ah, this is better!
Now Tim, like I promised, a scoop.
Tim, everyone says that I've lost it, no less,
and the folks from the press, they all think that the Prez
by the way, do you want some Froot Loops?
"Cool. What was I sayin'? Oh yeah. Tim: decayin'.
You know what I mean? Tell me straight."
"Well sir, there's bacteria " "Hey, Timmy, I hear ya!
Precisely! Bacteria! When you was in the wisteria
I thinks 'Him and me will relate'!
"So, got the tape running?" Timmy's forthcoming:
"No recorder, sir. Just can't afford it."
"OK, Timmy, use mine. Yeah, this one works fine.
Some predecessor of mine, before he resigned,
whenever he talked, he'd record it.
"We ready? Let's start. I wanna speak from the heart
to the folks of this nation of ours.
So, where to begin, hey Timmy Mundine
of Kids magazine, so they'll know what I mean?"
He begins, and having begun, goes for hours.
The interview finished, with zest undiminished,
he calls for two more bowls of cereal.
"Tim, I want you to swear on Mr Nixon's book here
raise your hand in the air: 'I faithfully swear
to honor these matters bacterial.'"
So Tim
takes the oath, then presently both
Head of State, cub reporter eat Loops.
"Can you do it?" he asks. "Are you up to the task?
It's a onerous task. Can you do this?" he asks.
"Mmm, we should give these to the troops.
"Kids monthly, you say. Swell! I read it each day.
Well, not every day. But each week.
Can you make the letters ... sort of ... move?" asks Lumwedder.
"Excuse me, Mr Lumwedder?" "No. Forget it. It's like Hedda
always says: I should think 'fore I speak.
[80] "So Tim, tell me straight. Do you think it will rate?
This interview these matters bacterial?
I think I did swell it's important! Why hell,
they should take it well!" "Sir, you never can tell
when it comes to this kind of material.
"But the job of the press is not to impress
or to follow sensation or scoops.
If you weren't the boss man, these views would be banned,
but let's make a stand." "Mundine, you're my man!
And a Loop man to boot! Want more Loops?"
"Mr President, no. I really must go
and put this edition to bed."
(John Graham of the SS, finger firmly pressed
to his ear, whispers "Yes" to his lapel. "Got it, yes.
Yes Mr S. ... Yes ... on tape ... Uh-huh ... yes. Every damn word that he said.")
Part 10
At this point in my verse I believe I could fare worse
than to offer a minor prediction:
you will say that 'John Graham' as a character's name
is OK, and 'Chuck Fleiss' much the same, but you'll say it's a shame
about 'Tim' it's like something from fiction.
I know. 'Tim'. Done to death.
Please don't waste your breath.
I already know that he shouldn't be Tim.
It's a clichι. It's twee. A central casting TV
kid's kind of name. Should be Lyall or Kyle, but you see
it mightn't suit us, but it suits him.
That said, I'm not averse at this stage in the verse
to changing it, to mess with and muck with it.
Except for one thing: he actually is Tim.
He was born Tim. He is Tim. Always was Tim. He'll die Tim,
(though not in this poem, thank God). So we're stuck with it.
OK. Here's Tim at home at this point of the poem
(though, of course, unaware that he's in one),
on account of Lumwedder on the horns of a dilemma
well, not horns. And not dilemma. Another trope would be better
but you're stymied by rhyme once you begin one.
The day after his briefing by Irving, he's leafing
through the transcript. To Tim Mundine's credit
he quickly engages; for an editor his age he's
not fazed by the pages, he does it in stages
although it's a damn lot to edit.
It takes Timmy ages to type in the pages
but he gets the mag finished by dark.
There's the phone it's the Prez! "Hi, Timmy. The press
will be jealous! I confess I don't know much about this.
What do you use? PageMaker?" "No. Quark."
"Quark? I'll be fucked! It sounds like a duck!
But I like it! It's just what we need!
So when can I read this story? We need
to get out a feed to the press and TV!"
"Tonight, sir." "Does my interview lead?"
[90] "Front page, before dark."
"But didn't you say Quark?"
"Sir, I mean that your story will headline."
"Oh. Sorry. This stuff ... this computer stuff's tough.
I could do it, sure 'nuff, but dancing letters 'n' stuff ...
OK, I'll go pray. You're on deadline.
"What time will I come?" "Sir? What time will you come?"
"I hope that's OK with you, Timmo."
"Cool! It'll roll off the press about seven, I guess.
Or 7:30, Mr Prez." "7:30! Yess!!" Irving says,
"That's great. 'Bout eight watch your gate for my limo."
Part 11
Eight o'clock rocks around, the Mundines hear a sound
like fifty Hells Angels arriving
at 30 Elm Way (OK, OK, I know it's clichι
too 'Hometown, USA'). The presidential motorcade
squeals up to the house. Irving driving.
The
snoops all surround the Mundines'. Irving bounds
to the door, hangers-on hanging on.
"Knock knock! Anyone in?" calls the Prez with a grin.
"Mr President! Come in," says Julie Mundine.
"Don't mind if I do. Where's the john?"
Soon he emerges, having done with his urges.
"I'm Irving!" "I'm Julie." "I'm Pete."
"Nice place. I'm impressed." "May we take your headdress?"
"No, it's comfortable, more or less." "Well ... who would have guessed
that we'd have such a guest? Take a seat."
"If it's OK, with you, we have work to do.
Bet you're proud of your boy, this reporter."
"Oh yes, Irving, truly, so proud!" replies Julie.
"Quite proud," says Pete coolly, meaning "No ... not unduly."
But he smiles, as one does, on camcorder.
"I'll whack it on floppy and send you a copy!"
"Fantastic!" laughs Julie. "That's proof.
With my sister I'll need it, 'cause if June doesn't read it
or actually see it, she'll never believe it."
Only Pete heeds the sounds in the roof.
Irving beckons, "Hey Tim," and hands the camera to him.
"Just a quick one of me with your folks,
to convince your Aunt June. Do you know how to zoom?
Done! Now ... to the press room!" So they go to Tim's room.
"Did you untidy for me?" Irving jokes.
"I'm sorry, Mr Prez," the boy sees his mess.
"I rather like it, my man. Should see mine.
Let's see what you did." Timmy hands him a Kids.
"Great cover you did! This will sure lift the lid
off of everything. Boy, you done fine.
"Man, you have such a brain
'THE PRESIDENT GOES SANE'
Best headline I've ever read yet,
at least about me. Except when I was VP:
'VP on QT QT in DC'.
Say could this interview run on the Net?"
[100] "Sir " "Please
call me Irving." "Sir, I can't call you Irving!"
"OK. Call me Lum. I insist."
"I should call you Lum?" "It sounds a bit dumb?"
"No, but " "Call me Lum, my Mom called me Lum."
"OK ... Lum ... well ... I do have the story on disk ...
(100 verses per page) Continued next
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