It's raining cats it's raining dogs,
And yes in calcutta city of joy.
In an hour the roads will be rivers,
Please enjoy your usual ploy.
Ditches are good they have been ,
A trainer to the cavorting type.
¡Ay, caramba the color is brown,
Pious the poop, plump and ripe.
Super useful also the urine you see,
I am totally a hindoo fanatic fan.
But human turds are mixed,
Can't be both pious and a picky man.
Cars are fun they overturn,
The government is playing blame ping-pong.
Mellifluous the many merry mosquitoes,
Chorus from a choir, their malarial blood song.
And dengue too and scary scrub typhus,
The many ways for an expensive death.
Pretend doctors and expired meds,
Loutish the hospital pimp's breath.
Podgy and vain now high BP and pain,
The understanding middle understands.
Just as low as they can sink they do,
Commonplace the daily biligerence stands.
Drains are left open since the British time,
Makes mad even a jolly bengali.
Hopes are stuff that make turds gray,
While history a vomit of repeat folly.
Vote for more, sore a democratic score,
Nothing but lusting frogs croaking hoarse.
The sun now comes out of the cloud,
Feces boiled floating off course.
