by Julia Griffin

Demoralizing all the earth,
Two Presidents of equal worth,
In one apocalyptic spat,
Discharged the weapons “Old” and “Fat.”
The USA was deeply stung,
For Tweedledump was ever young,
A youth, a boy, a little kid,
As proved by all he said and did;
Pyongyang felt similar chagrin,
As Tweedledim was wafer-thin—
A living proof, in fact, of this
Euclidean hypothesis:
A line no wider than a thong
May still be infinitely long.

The military catalogue
Had previously stopped at “dog,”
“Fraud,” “international pariah,”
And that eternal favorite “liar”;
Now Fox could only praise and pray;
Likewise the networks of NK.
So thank the (former) KGB,
Which coaxed both heroes to agree
(Since neither could refrain from speech)
That they should have one planet each,
Identical in shape and size,
Years distant, as the rocket flies,
To do with as they reckoned fit;
And no one else need live on it.