Kafka is as Kafka does

If I were to say
A word, a phrase
That made no sense
What would you say?
Would you first ask
If I was on your side
And, if so
Swear that my words
Were clear as crystal?
If so
You may join those
Who hoot and holler
At every word
Every dollar
That Dubya throws at them
The inebriate from Crawford
Who strains at
Every syllable
Unless a script
Is written by the Turd Blossom
That porcine shell of a man
Whose soul has long since been sold
To the devil
A walking husk
Of a human that once was
But now is not
A waste of protoplasm
A zombie whose eyes
See only that
Which seeps from the sewers of mankind
The vapors of uncleanness
Scrubbed
Brushed
Waxed
And perfumed
For our viewing
Pleasure.