Carver Ned,
Assigned his task,
Set block of wood
Upon the cask;
Laid tools out neat
In ordered rows-
Prepared to strike
Well ordered blows,
Chisel and mallet
Wielded with care.
And soon produced-
A lock of hair.
With practiced thrusts
And gentle blows,
Ned then shaped
The noble nose.
Figure and form
Quickly followed;
But soon discovered-
Large voids and hollows.
A hollow here,
A void up there-
Heartwood Of mush
And core of air.
Carver Ned
Then chiseled more,
His task requiring
Solid core-
But carved more carefully
Than before;
That block, in slivers,
Fell to the floor,
And upon the cask,
And slivered and torn-
Reposed a remnant:
Its gossamer mask
E'er haggard and worn-
A hollow shell;
Dishonored, forlorn.
And Ned the carver
Gave up his task
Removed the remnant
From the cask-
Rolled up his tools
In pouches neat,
And from his quest
Made sad retreat.
For the thing he'd sought,
Was imaginary:
The heart and soul,
And substance of-
Senator; John F. Kerry