Ms. Harris And The Coach

 "The time has come," Ms. Harris said, "to talk of other things:

Of electric boats and shark attacks

and whether cabbages should be king.

And why the sea is boiling hot,

Because climate change is a real thing.

"But  wait a bit," the voters cried,

Before we cast our vote;

For some of us lost our ininds,

      

Listening to him gloat!'

"No hurry!" said the Coach.

      

In a pleasant Midwestern note.

"The right to choose," Ms. Harris said,

      

"Is what we chiefly need.

Keep your hands off our bodies,

      

It's not your business, no indeed. 

Now if you're ready, Voters dear,

      

It's time that we were freed.'

"But not for us!: the MAGATs cried,

      

Turning a little red.

"For we spent all this money putting red caps

On our pointy heads!"

"Now is the time,' Ms. Harris said.

     

"You all know it's true.

I know that it's tough,

      

And you're not very bright."

The Coach said nothing but

      

he twisted the wire tight

And made the headlights work 

      

So we could all see at night.

"It seems a shame," Ms. Harris said,

      

To speak so slow

Explaining all those things

 

That everyone ought to know."

The Coach said nothing but

This brisket's cut too thick."

"I weep for you," Ms. Harris said:

I deeply sympathize.

With your inability to sort out

The truth from all those lies.

Holding her pocket-handkerchief

      

Before her streaming eyes.

"O voters," said the Coach

"Please join us on the bus

We've got Democracy to save

For you and every one of us."

 And this was scarcely odd, because

     

We've grown tired of all the fuss.