The Kosovo Cluck
The Chicken King sat on his frozen throne,
With a crown made of brass and a logic his own.
“I’m the Leader!” he chirped, with a Stetson on tight,
While dreaming of Sovereign Alberta all night.
He pointed to Kosovo—far, far away—
“If they can be free, then we’ll have our day!”
But the Chicken forgot, in his “Blah! Blah!” refrain,
That Kosovo’s rushing to join the EU chain.
He’s clucking for freedom, he’s scratching the dirt,
With a “Sovereign” plan that is bound to get hurt.
He wants to be Kosovo, lonely and small,
Then wonder why Brussels is coming to call!
The APP sign says “YES” (as if there’s a choice),
While the oil rigs echo his singular voice.
But the snowflakes are falling, each one with a face,
Of the “experts” who’ve led him to this chilly place.
He blocked out the truth with a squawk and a stare,
Then strutted away with a “Leaderly” air.
But the joke is on Jeff, and his Kosovo dream:
He’s just another bird in the Globalist scheme!