MacBlago

When last the great Thane of Chicago
Saw the peach-tree woods approach
Anger stirred in old MacBlago
Bringing words of strong reproach.

“Can’t you see, this Evil Axis
Gathering against me so
Is all a plot to raise your taxes
See, we share a common foe.”

Gazing at the gathering arbor:
“How could they not understand
This tragedy is my Pearl Harbor
Your doom, too, is close at hand.”

“We face this epic fall together
My sweet folk of Illinois
Each of us a victim, ever
Man and woman, girl and boy.

As the woods came, every tree
Our old MacBlago turned in scorn
“They’re not fit to speak to me,
A man, who’s not of woman born.”