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Deep in America’s heartland, in Topeka to be precise,
Lives the Reverend Fred Phelps, who makes Darth Vader look nice.
At Westboro Baptist, he leads a smallish flock, does Phelps.
The members are, mostly, his extended family, which helps.
He and his followers travel America during nights and days,
Protesting at schools and churches that are friendly to gays.
Crashing the funerals of AIDS victims is how he wastes gas,
And he made his name at Matt’s funeral for being a total ass.
His church has demonstrated 22,000 times, insists his site.
Such obsession suggests his un-merry band is a cult, all right.
Wonder why, when it comes to hating gays, Phelps takes the prize?
An obvious possibility is that, in his heart, Fred likes guys.
Last year he reached out and made enemies far from these shores.
His site “God Hates Sweden” says the royal family look like
gays and whores.
Certainly Swedes would love to see Phelps relocate to Venus,
Since he wrote they “are drippings from the Devil’s own penis.”
Fred’s traveling circus has found a new group to mock.
His brood pickets the funerals of soldiers killed in Iraq.
They make themselves as welcome as locusts, vultures and mices,
Carrying signs that thank God for improvised explosive devices.
For Phelps in his wisdom claims Americans are dying abroad
Because America’s embracing of gays has pissed off God.
Now here on earth, veterans and others are understandably irate,
And lawmakers scurry to squelch funeral protests in state upon state.
The pastor deliberately raised his profile; he surely isn’t lazy.
The rest of the U.S. is learning what gays knew: he’s some kind
of crazy.
Americans are right to be appalled at Fred’s unconscionable display
of hate.
But for many gays living and dead, the outrage comes a little too late.
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