Mayday (to the tune of Baa Baa Black Sheep) (poem)

 

{I’m including this ditty as part of my series Sixty Days , leading up to the 2020 presidential election, because it reminds us of some rather grim times, and the way the administration has responded to dire emergencies.  

This was first published in the summer of 2017, a very busy season for natural disasters.  The Atlantic hurricane season included Harvey, Irma and Maria, among others, and resulted in 294 billion dollars in damage, per Wikipedia. The Florida Keys suffered greatly under Irma, while Harvey flooded Texas, and Maria did her best to wipe clean the slate of Puerto Rico. 

At the end of this un-funny parody of a familiar nursery rhyme, I refer to the pleas of Puerto Rico to be given assistance, like any other portion of the US has the right to expect in an emergency.  In reply, the president made a rather heartless distinction between states and territories, in how much aid he was willing to give. 

And who can forget the paper towel tossing?  Thanks for coming by to read!}

 

Ha ha, Florida,

What’s that in your pool?

Tree limbs, tree limbs,

Thirty bags full.

 

Ten from the windstorm,

Ten from the rain,

Ten from the flooding—

Look how high it came!

 

Virgin Islands,

Puerto Rico, too,

Blown and washed away,

Nothing left for you.

 

Life without water

Or electric lights,

Generators failing,

Looting in the night.

 

US citizens,

First and second class:

Lost in a big sea

Or contiguous.

 

We need your help, Sir,

Though you come too late.

Then pay what you owe me:

You should’ve been a state.

 

Ha ha, Mayor,

Raging in your fear:

Mayday, Mayday,

We are dying here.

 

Copyright Andrea LeDew 2017

 

For the rest of this series to date, see Sixty Days. 

For more on hurricanes, see Hurricane Anthology.  Or look under the hashtag “hurricanes” in the tag cloud below.