Forgive, dear readers, my poor showing
My absence you might pin on snowing
Not here in Florida
That’s for the rest of ya-
Down here the wind insists on blowing!
Now, we certainly don’t raise a fuss,
Much less yammer like a stupid cuss
Like the dolts on the TV
Who’ve let loose their wee-wee-
They insist that we leave on a bus!
This truly is extraordinary
They think us quite daft to tarry
But they should know by now
That ’til it kills a cow
The wind can be drowned with Chuck Berry!
Me, dear readers, don’t be quick to judge
No need to fill your drawers with fudge
As a matter of fact,
You’re seen as shy of tact
If from the hurricane bash you budge!
But now that will be enough of that-
I must continue our little chat
About things various
Challenges before us
Like how we must stop the Congress stat.
On second thought, let’s not go there now,
I’d rather behind a old mule plow-
Least then I could harass
Or even command the ass!
But I feel my blood boiling, so chao!
