A Smashing Idea

The White House is the People’s House, possession held by one and all,
but I’m now claiming squatter’s rights as I tear down the East Room wall.
Without the proper permits or reviews, I’ve started demolition
not of just this stately structure – but all curbs on my ambition.

I said the ballroom would be near, but wouldn’t touch; there’d be respect.
That’s just another broken promise. C’mon – what did you expect?
While I’ve made pledges by the dozens, given my word resolutely,
have I ever weaseled out or backed down? Abso-fuckin’-lutely.

I keep claiming I’m a builder, but a nail I’ve never hammered.
A very stable genius I am: self-proclaimed and self-enamored.
My disdain for this great edifice, as excavators raze it,
serves as metaphor for all I’ve wrecked – no matter how you phrase it.