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[personal profile] primeideal posting in [community profile] poetree
Following on from yesterday's poem, this installment takes us into the profane world of @MayorEmanuel. This was a fake Twitter account mocking Rahm Emanuel's run for mayor of Chicago, accompanied by his loyal companions, Carl the Intern and Quaxelrod the Duck. At the end of the saga, Rahm was transported into a portal back to the correct timeline, cussing all the way.

Ash makes it to Illinois,
And back, with a necklace
Stowed deep in her pocket.
That isn't the problem.

The problem is the hitchhiker
She'd picked up on the Dan Ryan,
Who wouldn't shut up.

"Parallel universes? Oh yeah,
We've got tons of those up here!"
Ash is only too happy
To dump him on the others
As she takes off.

Carl offers to organize Bailey's junk
In exchange for a custom-built cell phone.
Alex agrees to the deal
And has to talk Bailey into it.
He claims that everything is in its place
But the metal bits on the floor
Are a hazard to bare feet
And, just as importantly, tentacles.

So Carl sorts the resistors by color code
While Bailey builds a phone to spec.
"Are you sure this is working?" he asks.
"I get these notifications all the time..."

"Oh yeah," Carl says confidently,
"It's my boss, look."

You know what these ********* astrophysicists and their ************* cosmological constants don't take into their ******* account?

Whatever the ******* temperature is to boil water for just one ********* cup of ******* coffee.

If there's not a hot cup of coffee here soon instead of this undrinkable **** there's going to be a big bang of my fist and somebody's ***.


"We have to check on him,"
Says Carl, "make sure he's okay."

"You can't come in here,"
Says Alex. "There are ducks."
And indeed from timeline after timeline
A paddle of ducks has crowded into the equipment room.

"I'll deal with them," Carl promises,
And begins leaving a trail of crumbs
That crosses itself, spiralling into a loop
As the ducks begin to fall in line.
All the while, the updates come in.

Seriously, as if all these political ********* weren't bad enough, the ******* ducks are sliding between universes?

Hey, Mr. President, grow a ****. Start confronting the most important questions of our time, like "where the **** is my duck."

Or you, crazy ******* joke of a ******* opposition candidate, get tough on these ******* rogue waterfowl.

Seriously, this is what it's come to? You're blasting each other on TV and I'm forcing ******* teachers go to ******* school. What the ****.

They're standing outside just making sure the ******* useless babies don't kill themselves on the ******* playground. The **** is this ****.

******* collective bargaining. The ************* Green ******* Bay ****** Packers get ****** once and now everyone thinks it's good idea.


But by the time Carl reaches the last
Of the bread crumbs, the ducks are complacent.
In her "Think globally,
Act within local variable scope,"
Shirt, Alex sends them back
One at a time, each to its home.

Carl is last to leave.
"It's all right," Bailey promises him.
"It's almost election time."

"Four more years
Of candidates ignoring the issues
Such as funding for giant science machines,"
Carl sighs.

"But they'll call in your boss,
Put him on TV,
Give him the forum he wants."

"True," says Carl, and takes off.

A few minutes later,
Bailey gets a text,
**** it, forgot to bring back non-****** coffee. Oh, this isn't going to go well at all,
And he smiles.

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