[We suspect eminent philosopher and past poet-contributor Philip Kitcher of adding a touch of subtle sarcasm to his lyricism here. But maybe not?]
Our electoral prospects had driven us barmy.
Now we march to our orders from Megan-Thee-Stallion.
We are fired up to serve in the Democrat Army.
We have thronged to the muster, brigade and battalion.
Though the pundits proclaim that the fervor can’t last,
And dismiss our delight as a brief honeymoon,
It’s a permanent joy that the torch has been passed.
Each detractor is merely a fearful poltroon.
Look around! It’s as buoyant as Springtime in Paris.
Bernie Bros and Blue Dogs, they’re from every tribe,
All turned on by the thought of a President Harris.
We can make the dream true! Join the fun! Feel the vibe!