I want to eat soft foods with you, Washington:
Puddings and cakes and ice creams—
We could picnic and talk of many things
Like foreign policy and war—and your dreams.

As you nibble gingerly on some brie
You could tell me about your plantation,
And furthermore, your oath of office
Which you took with trepidation.

And then, crying over mashed potatoes
You might recount the harrowing tale
Of being shot FOUR TIMES
While crossing battle’s pale!

I want to eat soft foods with you, George,
On a checkered blanket ‘neath the sky:
And you can tell me everything
For I know you’ll never lie.