I am. . Public, the

The bottoms fit conglomerates
of different shapes and sizes,
It's our job to scratch the bottom-feeders
and anticipate disguises. .
A perfect body?
Realize, we're forced to teleprompt and test you,
We saw propaganda rear its face
in the form of the helicopter rescue. .
Curbing the kid in me, perhaps
deserving of bigotry,
The marketable was marketed in the form of the suburban epitome. .
Well-fed & two-faced;
dare I say: a skillful, wily mouse,
Who has tattered our nation's name
via Bill O'Reilly's mouth. .
Retrieving the bright dollars
and deceiving contrite scholars. .
This victory is smeared across the dearest hearts & sleeves of the white-collared. .
Well-orchestrated;
consequences discarded hearts in blunder
Perplexing 'minds' on the daily;
and making Barbara Walters wonder. .
Untattered, like fun mattered;
even the British eyes could scold her,
But after serving our country, how can we criticize our soldiers?
Again, a genius plan -
I see Rumsfeld blessing the rich shows,
They saved his ass, but what happened?
Only Jessica Lynch knows.