I signed on to kill them, kill them because they’re
different, and that makes them the enemy. I’m here,
sucking up sand because they bested my ancestors
for the holy land, and I bear all of my father’s shame
on my back.
So with a fixed bayonet, a K-Bar and a patriot missile,
I’ll bleed your ground red, yet again, this time to bring
you democracy—the new crucible cleansing the same heathen,
pagan, camel-jockey, dune-coon, ass-backward people as before—
you people’ll never learn will you?
I am the heavily armed and the holy handed. I don’t
care how many of your zealot sons I disembowel—
don’t mind if your innocent daughters die in the raids,
I will beat you into submission—you brought this on
yourselves, after all. And remember—you’ll thank me later.
Jingo Jangle
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powerful shit. good to see someone writing poems about stuff that matters. (i mean as opposed to self-centred head-cases like me)
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