In Minne-snow-ta, an open-seat chase
Turned frigid and shifted the race;
After Trump's ICE crackdown,
The Dem primary showdown
Has hopefuls skating for first place.

There once was a senator mid-fight,
Who swore that his vote wasn’t black nor white;
With a palette of views,
He mixed reds with blues—
Saying, “Call it hue process, not left versus right.”

In Maine, Troy Jackson seeks traction,
With a first general ad springing to action;
He gives Susan Collins a roast,
From Bangor on down to the coast,
The Maine event meant to buoy his faction.

There once was a headline that read:
“If elected, anti-vax fund,” it said.
He took a sharp jab
At the jab in his gab,
Then added, “Not confirmed yet,” instead.

There once was a hawk from the Palmetto shore,
Who’d caucus then squawk on the Senate floor;
An ally in fights,
on foreign-policy flights,
At seventy-one, headlines hear him no more. (A real Beltway “squawk-us” pun in store.)