Georgie Porgie, pudding and pie,
Kissed the girls and made them die.
Contact tracers found him though,
In a bakery open for business in Orlando.
Jack be nimble, Jack be quick.
Watching Jack all day be making daddy sick.
Tweedle-dum and Tweedle-dee
Decided to go on national TV.
Tweedle-dum began to prattle
About injecting bleach and sun
While Tweedle-dee bumbled
Around in a hospital
Showing his face for fun.
Mary had a little lamb,
But she doesn’t anymore.
Her parents chopped it up and ate it
Because there was no meat at the store.
My name is Ron Johnson, senator from Wisconsin,
I’m against federal relief for anyone there.
And if they’re too sick to go to the polls,
They should stay at home with their toilet paper rolls.
Hey, diddle, diddle!
In week one, we did a lot of that.
Now I sit here alone, talking to the cat.
To market, to market
To buy a new mask.
They’re out again, out again,
But it doesn’t hurt to ask.
Little Miss Muffet
Sat on her bed
And spent the whole day on her phone.
After hundreds of Facebook posts read,
She still feels quite alone.
Little boy blue, come blow your horn.
It’s seven o’clock and essential workers
Deserve a bit more than scorn.
Thought it might be Monday,
Or Tuesday, or Wednesday,
Before deciding it didn’t matter
Probably until next year.
He was on furlough, you see,
and for the last month
had been soaking deep in beer.
Little Jack Horner
Sat in the corner
Playing on his Nintendo Switch.
His parents are still hoping he learns something
And can support them when he gets rich.
Baa, baa, Netflix,
Have you another season?
Of anything really—zombies,
Or a documentary about the band Styx.
It doesn’t have to stand to reason.
Hush little baby, don’t say a word,
Papa’s trying to remember his Amazon password.