The Gulf

To visit the Gulf of America,

In case you get the notion,

You might fly over what’s now called

The Mar-a-Lago Ocean.

 

Be sure to click your seatbelt,

For when using this portation,

(The “trans” has been removed)

You’ll pass a bright red once-great nation.

 

Get your brand-new passports ready

For the agents are quite brusque

And you might just get deported

To a planet now named Musk.

 

What once was Mars is filled with

Crowds of migrants (oh, such noise!),

Lining up to use the bathrooms

Clearly labeled Girls or Boys.

 

There’s a huge arena filled with

Those with polio or mumps,

For there are no more vaccines,

Which Junior argued were for chumps.

 

While back on earth, the military

(Minus gays and gals)

Is patrolling Mar-a-Gaza,

Filled with Donald’s kiss-ass pals.

 

And in Congress, the Republicans,

With joyfulness, cavort,

Knowing that, no matter what,

They’ll have the backing of the Court.

 

For those of us remaining,

We can mutually mope

Or reclaim the Gulf of Mexico,

With just a thread of hope.