he's a loner, a long distance phoner
he's Turkish or a Jew,
he came home late for the Last Supper,
	mama beat him black and blue.
he's no scrounge-carries the Gold Card­
	demands the VIP lounge.
he got a dog, an 800 dollar Chihuahua,
	sent it back 'cause it couldn't talk Spanish.
he planned Earth on a lark,
	then sold it for a song.
he took a land with nature's riches
	and leased it to James Watt
	to take apart.
he was a cabin boy on the Andrea Doria,
	and ran away.
he fired the missile that hit the Belgrano.
	at the Auschwitz glee club
he led the sopranos
	as they marched to the ovens
he played the piano.
he stowed away on the Nina, Pinta & Santa Maria­
	that's the only he could get an apartment
	in Manhattan so cheap.
he has us believe that things were always this way,
	that city hall is forever.
he gave the Tsar his final kiss,
	told him not to worry
	he'd get him an Apple Macintosh
	and a pass to the West.
he couldn't bury Karl Marx
	so he just hounds his children to no avail;
	Lenin creamed him in a long game of pinocle;
	Gramsci beat him at catch-the-cockroach in jail.
he snuck the angels into hell to spy on electronic mail,
	distorted computer matching,
	flew the space shuttle into the drink
	blew out the tank on the lunar module,
	a billion gone in a blink. then
he starred in a quiz show,
	won the highest: a water purifier
	and a trip on a Korean flight.
	bit a chip off the golden calf,
	got another toothpaste, sponsored
	with the CIA in Dallas
	hid behind the bush
	zeroed in on Kennedy...
	in Him we trust?