The local girls are Asian, South Korean, Japanese,
Chinese, Vietnamese.
A few runaway Muslim chicks.
War is a man-shaped demon.
War is booze and guns, fistfights,
Humvees and frying, flying limbs.
What's a young man to do?
He does it, then lives to die later.
Madam Butterfly has a missile launcher.
Flower-drum songs and whistling bombs,
'agent orange' sing-alongs.
It’s all an edge of the grave rave.
Rosie the riveter has got herself a flamethrower.
Napalm blooms in the garden of sin.
What's a young man to do
to save you?
If he makes it, if he comes through,
treat him gently
while he holds his head and screams
or more likely, he goes quiet
way too quiet.
then he just might be the next explosion
in your new foxhole.
Local girls go and come home also,
she that stayed,
her long tour of duty has just begun.
Old red plaid shirt blew off the line with ease.
One July day with a gentle breeze,
Farmer’s wife came out to peek into old deep freeze.
She was now standing in meat up to her knees.
Old farmer came out and asked with “please”…
Can you find my shirt up in the trees?
The wife stopped smiling. There were no tee-hees.
She began to hunt for shirt in their Humvees.
Farmer went inside to pay their state fair fees.
Opportunity to upgrade tickets, he did seize.
He loved the Iowa state fair in all degrees.
Wife asked everyone with heartfelt pleas,
“Have you seen a red plaid shirt taken by a breeze?”
A few neighbors did aptly tease.
Saw it go north, said old Mr. McFees.
I am sure it is in Belize, another decrees.
One thing for sure, that plaid shirt was gone in the breeze….
We ride across the desert sands
Like pirates out at sea.
Two Humvees accompany me
12 gypsies all we be
We fly the Jolly Roger, a symbol
Big and bold,
We sail a cross the desert sand
Happy pirates what we be.
We sport heavy fire power as we
Sail for liberty.
We have a cast of characters and a captain that be me.
We get our sailing orders and plot and plan you see.
We have a deadly mission, to capture these faces for there atrocities, they display them on playing cards
That makes them easy to see.
We are the sand gypsies that's what we are you see,
So If you happen to see us, with the black flag flying proud, it's just us sand Gypsies 12 jolly bastard were told, you will hear our music playing give me shelter is what it will be, we're just Out on a mission sailing across the desert sea.
I gots to go on down to Applebees.
I gots to watch the big game on TV.
Oh, its much better than January's
Superbowl, March Madness, the history
of boxing or Tiger Woods teeing up.
We'll toss down a couple of brews and eat
our way through the evening hour and top
it all off with a chocolate dessert.
All the while on the overhead teevees
we'll watch our boys, the desert commandos
rush over the dunes on their neato humvees,
and shock and awe those Bhagdad a--holes
with our technology.Tonight we will
root for our side to bomb them all to hell.
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