Boobie Contract Mercenaries
(from Fernando Po, U.S.A., America's post-literate retreat to Plato's Cave)

"One rag-head looks like all the rest,"
The contract Cadmus drawls.
"To dead-check camel-jockeys takes
No necessary balls.
Just pay me my six-figures and
I'll shoot him as he crawls."

"I've got my Ray-Ban glasses
And I've got my SUV;
And I can tilt my M-16
To just the right degree,
Which dainty pose warns bad guys of
My cool ferocity."

The bow-tied cable pundit thought
He’d get in on the scrum
And joy ride through Iraq’s mean streets
With mercenary scum
To school him in some righteous thrills
They drove him through a slum

To get into the swing of things
They issued him a gun
So they could rob a petrol stand
And take their gas and run
While weary, thirsty customers
Camped waiting in the sun

And so as not to have to wait
In traffic not so fast
The mercenary hired guns
Pull out their guns and blast
Iraqi cars off of the street
So they can blaze right past

Of course these bald activities
Do not endear the goons
To normal Muslim people who
Don’t patronize saloons
So when they get the chance they grease
These overpaid poltroons

They love to play at soldiering
But not for petty cash
And not for what Sir Winston called
“Rum, sodomy, and lash”
But for a chance to dance at some
Inauguration bash