Letter from the Southern Ocean

Dear Mr President you need a map,

your grasp of lands is clearly somewhat wonky.

But then your grasp of history is perhaps

indicative of being just a donkey.

 

We understand you tariffed us you prick!

You filthy orange fascist with a quiff.

We’re writing you from down near the Antarctic

cos we’ve got produce we can hit you with.

 

We’ll send our produce direct to Mar-e-Lago.

A gift from us with gratis just for you.

A product you’ve not had and may not know.

The finest and slimiest avian poo.

 

Our sea bird mates will fly to Mar-e-Lago

and you can have our produce tariff free.

We’ve tons and tons of our disgusting guano

for you, Mrs Melania your gobby mate JD.

 

They’ll do a fly-by past your big White House

and help to fertilize that splendid lawn.

They’ll shit on Air Force One you nasty louse.

You my friend will wish you’d never been born.

 

Finally, don’t think you’ll ever build a gold course

on our volcanic home Dear President Trump.

Cos we’ll we waiting and coming out in force.

Don’t fuck with penguins buster you orange lump!