The President, The Poop Pump and Paltrow

SHut up, suit up and show up.
It’s a dirty job, but some of us only get to
pilot a client’s yacht to the poop pump.
Mooring with a failed engine, a tricky maneuver
especially when dumping waste at the pump.
But, hey, we all do what we gotta do, and as I jump
from deck to dock, I see a seagull, or is it a plane?
and land on my butt and my back and see not stars
but Marine One escorting our President someplace.
It’s a tough job but somebody’s got to pilot
the President to Gwyneth Paltrow’s party
where he’ll chat about such topics as Isis,
Ebola and the upcoming elections.
Hey, some people get to don a tuxedo,
others of us, an orange hazmat suit.
As Marine One flies over, I’m able to lift
my head to salute. Nothing broken. Thank
God for ObamaCare, just in case I can’t
roll over, stand up, and limp to the pump,
to press the button to dump the poop
After all, we all gotta do (and speaking of do)…

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