Shared Values

CBS News and the New York Times a few days ago released a comprehensive new poll chock-full of fresh insights on the state of the race nationwide. Seventy percent of voters say that Barack Obama is the candidate who most resembles American values—more so than Hillary Clinton or John McCain. Obama's emphasis on what pundits call his "American story" seems to have outweighed the smear tactics that have dogged him throughout the campaign. Also of note: 52 percent of Republicans think Obama shares American values. Only 27 percent of GOP voters think Clinton does. (Fifty percent of Democrats think McCain has American values.) An equal number of independents (68 percent) think Obama and McCain have American values.

More poll fun:

Fifty-three percent of voters think John McCain's policies would favor the rich. Thirteen percent say the same about Barack Obama.

Eleven percent of voters are very confident that John McCain will make correct decisions about the economy. Forty-two percent are not confident. He's the worst-rated of the three remaining candidates in this regard.

Sixty-nine percent of voters (Democrats and Republicans) expect Barack Obama to win the Democratic nomination.

Fifty-six percent of Democratic-primary voters think Obama is better able to beat McCain in November. Thirty-two percent think Clinton is.

Election Scorecard uses data supplied by Mark Blumenthal and Charles Franklin at: http://www.pollster.com/

Research ino gathered at: http://www.slate.com/

Now, here's one of my poems that kisses babies for votes:

Or Low-Life A Ceiling

A man jumps from the twentieth floor but floats down.

Escapism hanging on a coat rack. A banquet honoring
vinegar. Falling leaves. A crowd waiting for the
arrival. Or on a park bench with a grassy knoll to
fondle. Shopping at a best friend's house. A telephone
with two mouthpieces. A cookbook story of our lives.
Busy crosswalks. Phony street signs. To have a
pre-conceived notion of downtown Phoenix. "I see you've
learned to travel light", she says, noticing the
flight bags under my eyes. "Yeah, and you must be on
your way to palm reading class", I reply, searching
for the tube of hand lotion. Hot bath. Fragrance-free
shampoo. Pickpockets working the market stalls. Then

later, I dream that weapons are the witnesses...

naked with sunlight entering our forest...
or we could test drive an Italian hair dryer.

A full stomach or sky adrift in a lifeboat.
Until everything around us looks like shoelaces or
maybe just a bit rambunctious in a rash, wearing a
dark catacomb and paste-on mustaches as disguises.

Poem first published at: http://www.umlikelystories.org/
Visit my ezine: http://www.concelebratory.blogspot.com/
and music blog: http://www.medleymakersant.blogspot.com/
Copyright 2008 by Maurice Oliver. All Rights Reserved.