Upper Handustan

Time was, t'was dubb'd U S of A.

Its polies…? All-American!

But that, my friend, was yesterday.

Today it’s Upper Handustan.

The despot there’s a billionaire,

an autocratic Uberman

who swears allegiance to the ban-

derole of Upper Handustan.

What once was het'rogeneous
is, sadly, now homogenous
because Sir Stable Genius
who rules there is mysogynous,
psychotic, narcissistic, racist --
and who sports a tan 
of hues he brews from powder'd traffic cones.
That's Upper Handustan.

What once was call'd America
would welcome Old World tired and poor,
would greet Third World diaspora 
with outstretch'd hand, with open'd door.
DPs now...? Stopp'd. "Halt, Sis! Whoa, Br'er!
You can't come here." (Where's "Yes We Can"...?)
You don't, you'll die...? We couldn't care..."
Yup, yup! That's Upper Handustan.

(More "Upper H" to come: a work in progress)

Folderol From a Few Friends

Said our president in recent days,

In his typical, obdurate haze:

“If you really must know,

Far as viruses go,

I liked AIDS, ‘cause it just killed the gays."

                        -- Big Pig, CEO of Hogmalion

There once was a virus corona,
That forced us to stay home alone-a,
As Trump kept on lyin'
More people kept dyin'
Till finally they took his cell phone-a.

                         -- Anonymous from Oregon