Punching Above Your Weight

“You’re punching above your weight,”

Mr. Obama said in my dream.

And I thought well isn’t that great;

Seems I’m always swimming upstream.

But he is the President after all,

So I thanked him for saying so;

Punching above my weight y’all,

In my dream I was all a glow.

‘Twas then though he began punching back,

That big dude way above my weight;

“Whoa man,” I cried. “I’m a lover Barack.”

So I told the President I was late.

Yep, late for a very important date

Like the white rabbit running scared;

Hah, me punching above my weight,

In my dream a hero almost compared.

Semantics

His parachute didn’t open

And I suppose it is now moot

But flailin’ and gropin’,

His last word was, “Shoot!”

Of course there is some dispute

For witnesses on the scene,

They say his last word was, “Chute!”

Which I suppose it could have been.

But I guess semantics is all,

Shoot or chute just before he hit;

Whatever his last word to call,

I bet he was thinking Oh shit.