by Blake Proctor
With sincerest apologies to poet Eugene Field, who was more prophetic than ever he would know!
Wynken, Blynken and Nod set sail on America’s Ship of State.
Nod, the Captain, asleep at the helm; no one has seen the First Mate.
Ere he dozed off, Nod gave the command for Wynken the Mate to head South;
But she just ain’t taking orders – she laughs and trips over her mouth.
Wynken the Mate takes off for LA, or else she’s not to be found.
She wants to occupy “That Room” once Nod’s run the Ship aground.
Blynken pilots through diplomat shoals – he’s read all his poli-sci books.
He was whacked once with an ugly stick, but he’s still twice as dumb as he looks.
Silly with stars, a traitorous type; his best bud is Xi Jinping.
Silly would call to tattle on Trump; lies got his butt in a sling.
That virus just ain’t going away – they’ve turned it over to Fowzi.
Mask or no mask? Work or stay home? That Covid doc is just lousy.
Ain’t got no toys for Christmas: ain’t got no gas; got no food;
It’s for the best, Janice Yellow says, to sell the Chinese our stocked crude.
The mouthpiece Sadsacki won’t ‘fess up the things we already know;
So she just keeps on refuting that Nod ain’t running the show.
Keystone Kops are the rest of the crew, stumbling and bumbling around;
Our Ship is going down by the stern, with no life vests to be found.
America’s in the fight of its life to keep our democracy;
The Socialist goal is to end us up in autocracy.
It took Venezuela some years to lose their democracy;
Their Socialists told the people they could have it all for free.
The Squad says they can do better, and they have Cuba as proof;
With Venezuela as backup…dumb Mer’kunz they think they can spoof.
The Dems’ only hope is confusion – to trick, obfuscate, and lie –
To convince the voters that Brandon is truly a stand-up guy.
But we’re not slow as molasses, nor dumb as Chucklosi thinks;
We’ll get them this coming election, and then we’ll see just what sinks.
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