I met a traveller from LaLa land
Who said: ` Two vast and carless roads of concrete
Stand in the westside. Near them, at Saban’s house,
Half sunk, a shattered approval lies, whose frown,
And wrinkled lip, and sneer against clingers,
Tell that its handler well those pollsters read
Which yet survive, stamped on this second term,
The hand that mocked them and the heart that fed.
And to the bundlers these words appear —
“My name is Obama, orator of orators:
Look on my historical presidency, ye Mighty, and despair!”
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare
The stacked up cars stretch far away.’