There’s a slimy gush, all over it spurts, screwed bight,
All over it spurts; now it can be found in wetlands in clumps—
A gross, sickly sheen.
Gunky spew of sludge with no end to it in sight;
It blows from the shelf—for the sea not good is this grotesque blight.

The dipsticks acted carelessly,
Cloakin’ now with goo the sea. . .slimy sheen;
This is a bad dream.
The bozo clowns are fools, that’s clear,
A den of dimwits without peer,
A dunce crew—their wreckage forever.

There’s a slimy gush, all over it spurts, day, night.
All over it spurts; now it can be found in marshes in clumps.

Gush, gush, gush. . . .

The dipsticks acted carelessly,
Cloakin’ now with goo the beaches. . .unclean;
Meanwhile the drill queen
Is whorin’ ’round for those who smeared
The Gulf Coast, as big-oil foes feared--
The gunk spews; the wreckage forever.

There’s a slimy gush from mouths of the churls who blight,
The bozos who blurt weasel bullshit sludge and won’t face a judge;
They’re more galling than sludge
That’s sometimes nicknamed “fudge”. . . .
Gush. . . .