So MephistObamales spake, and him Axelrod
Thus answer'd. Leader of those Armies cult-like,
Which but th' Clinton none could have foyld,
If once they hear that soaring oratory, thir liveliest pledge
Of "Oh-ba-ma" in fears and dangers, heard so oft
In Youtube videos, and on the perilous edge
Of voting when it didn't count, in all caucuses
Thir surest signal, they will soon resume
being unready on Day One, though now they lye
red phones unanswered on yon Lake of Erie,
As we erewhile, astounded and amaz'd,
No wonder, leading in both votes and delegates.

He scarce had ceas't when the clandestine Muslim
Was moving toward Pennsylvania, his ponderous ebony hue
Fortunate, inky, captivating to the masses,
Behind him cast; the broad darkness
Hung on his shoulders like a shadow, whose form
Through the television, the scorned Ferraro views
At dawn from the GMA studios,
Or in Torrance, to decry his luck,
At receiving the gift of blackness.
His Speech, to equal which the grandest ideals
Put to paper on Nantucket Sound, to be the voice
Of some great Kennedy, were but words,
He walkt with to support uneasie steps
Over a state that matters, not like those steps
On Potomac nights, and the torrid Chime
of the unanswered red phone, echo’d;
Nathless he so endur'd, till on the Beach
Of that inflamed Erie, he stood and call'd
His Legions, Obamaites, who lay intrans't
Thick as the souls that strow the grounds
In Jonestown where th' Kool-Aid
High glasses overflow’d; or scatterd hats
Orange, when with fierce electability Kerry arm'd
Hath vext the Iowans, whose votes orethrew
The Doctor and his hordes,
While with perfidious hatred they pursu'd
The Liberators of Mesopotamia who beheld
From the White House thir floating Laptops
And broken online movements; So thick bestrown
Abject and lost lay these, covering the Erie,
Under amazement of thir ten point loss.
MephistObamales call'd so loud, that all the hollow Deep
Of Kos resounded. Blacks, Latte drinkers,
Independents, those who needn’t a president, once his, now lost,
If such Krugmanesque concern-trolling as this can sieze
Secret Muslim Cult spirits; or have ye chos'n this place
After the toyl of Ohio to repose
Your wearied chants, for the ease you find
To slumber here, as in the Vales of Wisconsin?
Or in this abject posture have ye sworn
To adore your Hip Black Friend? who now beholds
Dodd and McCaskill rowling in the Erie
With scatter'd will.i.am songs, till anon
His swift pursuers from Little Rock discern
Th' advantage, and descending tread us down
Thus drooping, or with Drudge-linked photos of Somalian elder garb
Transfix us to the bottom of this Lake That Matters.
Awake, arise, and sing Yes We Can.

Quite frankly, friends, I'm just glad to know that there are others that are frightened by this man!