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

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