Ernesto, Ernesto - you are a big ol' Pesto
Why are you bothering my state?
People are scared and going insane,
Bilions of people in the check out lane.
Water and batteries flying out the store,
We have a bunch but we could always use more.
Ernesto, Ernesto - you pathetic little Pesto.
You couldn't keep it together over the Cuban mountains,
Throwing less water than the playground fountains.
Just take a sharp right and head out of sight.
I have run out of rhyme, at this particular time,
but that is okay because you aren't even a true hurricane.
A pathetic poem for a pathetic storm.