People are getting so antsy for Hillary to get the fuck out of the race already that this quest has even inspired a slew of epic poems. Well, all right, just one epic poem. But I have it right here for you, in all of its passion and ire, and it’ll SEEM like a bunch of epic poems because it says everything that needs to be said about how extremely over the Hill we are. As an extra bonus, it’s inspired by the Dr. Seuss classic, “Marvin K. Mooney Will You Please Go Now!”—but I’m sure you knew that.
Hillary Clinton Will You Please Get Out
an epic poem
By Jol Perez
it’s time to get movin,
the bell it has rung,
it’s time to get going,
you’re no longer young.
so pack up your platforms
and unpinch your pout,
and go, run, dash, sprint
but get out, just get out.
I don’t wish to holler,
I don’t want to shout.
But Hillary Clinton,
would you please GET OUT?
How you go doesn’t matter.
Really, when is the question,
See, we’ve dined on your cookies
and we got indigestion,
so we hereby relieve you
–oh, and thanks for your service.
Now please go while it’s awkward;
in a sec i’ll get nervous.
There’s a door, it’s an exit, from there you can start,
take a bold new direction—maybe you could make art.
You could lunge like a lion or swim like a trout.
just pick up your bags, ma’am, and please, ma’am, get out!
You can go by committee or by princely decree
or with Gerry Ferarro bent over your knee.
You could wave from the sunroof like a bold Mrs. Bhutto
or sign up with NASA on a mission to Pluto.
You could drive with Al Gore in a hybrid Toyota
or a couple goodfellas, Pesci and Liotta.
You could go Bernie-style with the dead Norman Mailer
or hitch up your wagon to an old FEMA trailer;
Make a Bosnian sequel starring Sheryl and Sinbad;
Write a memoir revealing you wanted to win bad.
You could call Brangelina or enlist Captain Kirk,
but you must get out now or this party won’t work!
You could follow an inkling, a clue, or a hunch.
You could leave before dinner or right after brunch.
You can leave dressed in leather toting Bill in a collar,
but please, ma’am, i can’t give a single more dollar.
Just leave while there’s dignity, reasoned debate.
Or do you suppose I am asking too late?
Still there’s a chance to depart with some clout
If you’d just leave right now and right now just get out.
You’re making me holler.
I’ve no choice but shout:
Please get OUT?
This article from the Village Voice Archive was posted on May 14, 2008