Big Red Balls and Small Tanks

Number forty-six barely knows his name
hunter loves his hoo-Xi and fine oil paints
while the free world's going soft
the commies flash big red balls
freedom will die if democracy tanks
Copyright © | Year Posted 2021

Poem

Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.

Please Login to post a comment

Be the first to comment on this poem. Encourage this poet.

Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace