Like you, I was flummoxed to learn Our leader! A signal-less turn! The man is a menace When late for his tennis The match is a bigger concern

At sixteen you can’t drink a Bud (You’d just hit the ground with a thud) The Red Cross is low On stocks of type O So maybe soon teens can give blood

A lot like a snowball in hell The chances of this don’t seem swell This week the sweat trickles And Vince hates on Nickles By asking to bid him farewell

Yes, rhyming ’bout weather is lame But heat has me off of my game! Our swamp, lads and ladies Is hotter’n Hades And these dudes are clearly to blame