Ann Coulter is just a big cheat.
She browbeats the airlines with Tweet.
If she isn’t pleased
She gets really cheesed --
And shoots them down like a clay skeet.
Honduras is such a poor spot
That fish from the sky fall a lot.
Inhabitants claim
That God is to blame --
The faithful have tartar sauce sought.
The ratings for Trump are so low
They chill the most tough eskimo.
His polls are so weak
He might as well streak
Across the South Lawn for a show. 
Nobody’s turned back from Qatar.
The place is a neighborhood bar,
Where ev’ryday gripes
And all sorts of types
Are welcomed like Gallic Babar.
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