Dear Mr. President; Wish You Were Here?

Should have stayed in Massachusetts, Mr. President;

Here, on Martha's Vineyard, where your 2 weeks "off" were spent.

Skies are blue and cloudless and the weather's, finally, warm...

But you're back in Washington and face a nasty storm.

Tear gas clouds from Ferguson are drifting down your way;

Turbulence across the pond as borders start to fray,

Plague winds out of Africa, a Middle Eastern front,

With you at the epicenter - where you'll bear the brunt

Of the rain of fecal matter critics throw at you,

Blustering in outrage at 'most anything you do.

Come on back to Massachusetts.  Stay 'til Labor Day.

(I'd still be exhausted...  That's a lot of golf you play.)

Not as if you don't deserve it.  If we're keeping score,

You've had less vacation time than most who came before.

Not as if you're really out of touch so don't feel bad...

W. took twice as many days as you have had.