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.