G T Foster

 Book the Show on Fox at Five

 (Scat thematic music of the Mickey Mouse Club television program)

      Mickey was blocked by term-limits so the MM Club leadership ran Minnie and billed her as the

 natural successor. Never modest, Donald Duck ran but was seen, on the other hand, as a clown

 playing for laughs. His candidacy was not taken seriously by club insiders and know-it-alls. They

 called him out of species names like Loose Goose and Popinjay Peacock, unfriended him on Face-

 book, scheduled the big parade without him and then totally ignored his loud drum. Official club

 spokespersons said he was an orange feathered ostrich with his head stuck in the sand and would

 eventually suffocate.    

      But low and behold! I mean, behold just how low. Although Donald promised to drain the

 swamp along the Tiki Village lake and turn Fantasy Land into a reality TV show, his rustler

 outsiders and foreign herd friends were also tired of Mickey and his kind and had their own plans.

 They twisted trails and painted tales with deadly diatomaceous earthy lies meant to frame and

 defame Minnie as a frightened rat not fit to captain a ship, then sent poison pen letters to many,

 many of her minions, supporters, and friends.

      Jiminy Cricket, the MM Club conscience and international greeter, died hopping just past

 the flagpole on his way to vote on Election Day as did Mr. Grasshopper, somewhere up the road

 from there, joined by another dozen or so of their creepy-crawly clubhouse friends. All dropped

 undesirably dead along the multi-fold paths of their designated neighborhood polling places.

      Elected the lucky duck turned the tables upside down trumpeting, “Fat meat ain't greasy! Eat all you want. I know a doctor guarantees good physicals. I'll give you a list. Fat meat ain't greasy, fracking is good, temperatures rising is a joke, and Global Warming is a hoax. Shrinking ice caps, rising tides? Are you quacked? Don't make me laugh. I'll tell you what's in, follow me on Twitter. Hotel bed sheets and head lice. Gonna make millions. What this nation needs is more Duck Nation Pride.”

      Two too many! Mickey was out, as was Minnie, too; tutus and all. Gone was the good life, but as losers the Mouses were louses. Their foundation shaken, left to garbage and scraps they couldn't

 take it. Quickly running afoul, they promptly found themselves ensnared, entangled, entrapped

 pinching peanut butter. Nutty! With their necks caught in the noose, both soon lost their heads,

 squealed each other out and expired shortly after.

  (Scat thematic music of the Mickey Mouse Club television program)

      Yea, Donald.Yea, Donald. Yea, Donald Duck Club! Yea!                                                                                    

                                                                                              

Club Cheer

Walt and Roy conjured dizzying joy

with sulking cats and talking rats

endowed with a Cold War strife 

upending candle life

Weekdays at 5 o'clock 

every adolescent on the block 

would gather at the Roberts' house

there to watch Mickey Mouse

Halting play at the neighbor's door 

we massed like kelp on the Pacific shore

We sat, stood, squatted, leaned, and swayed

from initial song and opening parade thru 

the clubhouse closing cartoon—every kid stayed 

The show retold old stories in animated art 

with a hypnotic, psychotic, neurotic start

Poor Donald, unlucky duck, would break 

my heart daily in an unsolved riddle: 

Why must he always be second fiddle?

Every fellow adored Annette Funicello 

but as for me, so far as the Triple R

I wanted the less hardy Spin to win 

not Marty 

Then at the end came 

Miska Mooska Mousekateer 

closing an hour of fun and cheer

selling soup, soap, cereal, and 

peanut butter but never beer—or ever 

my reflection in those Mouse Club ears