Boots (With Apologies to Rudyard Kipling)

By | 2019-04-20T18:14:26-07:00 January 30th, 2019|
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They’re tromp, tromp, tromping, across social media —
(And if you judge them, you are a chauvinist)
Boots, boots, boots, boots, strollin’ cross the Senate floor,
There’s no dignity, anymore.

I turned on the cable news last week to see,
An obsession with a certain Senatrix
And boots, boots, boots, boots, strollin’ cross the Senate floor —
There’s no dignity, anymore!

The dress code says, says to dress “profess’nally”:
Which profession, they forgot to specify.
Now boots, boots, boots, boots stroll across the Senate floor,
There’s no dignity, anymore.

Tromp, tromp, tromp, tromp – could it be significant
They’re not cowboy  or combat boots or Wellingtons,
Those boots, boots, boots, boots, strolling ‘cross the Senate floor?
There’s no dignity, anymore.

Cowboy boots suggest a rugged fearlessness;
Combat boots, a great heroic heritage;
Wellingtons, manure on the Senate floor —
There’s no dignity, anymore.

These boots, made for strutting down a darkened street
Or for walking all over your liberties —
Boots, boots, boots, attracting all the cameras —
There’s no dignity, anymore.

Orwell feared the future of humanity,
Was a jackboot standing on a human face —
Little did he guess ‘twould be a stripper boot!
There’s  no dignity, anymore.

About the Author:

Joe Long
Joe Long lives in Cayce, South Carolina. He holds a master's degree in history from Georgia College and State University. He has a very patient wife, five homeschooled children, and a job.