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Shame on DSK, in Verse

Did you ever wonder what DSK was doing in his room/ When the maid came in with her duster and broom?/ Was it something unspeakably common and low/ For that seemingly upper crust Socialist pro?
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GERARD JULIEN / AFP

Did you ever wonder what DSK was doing in his room

When the maid came in with her duster and broom?

Was it something unspeakably common and low

For that seemingly upper crust Socialist pro?

He could have been reading a library book

Or pacing the hall with a peeping-Tom look

(With widened eyes, I would surmise?)

Or calling the porter at night for a girl

Merely to give her a bit of a whirl?

He plies her with port and then maybe with snuff

(I wonder if that would be nearly enough)

He has to put dollar bills out on the table

And show he is master and sexually able

He offers a gown, she accepts with a frown.

Don't do it, you clown! You'll let all of France down.

Too late, too late, you'll rue the day,

Shame on you, honte à vous, DSK.

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