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Song from the Abu Grabe Party

by Bruce W Niedt

Dance, dance, dance,

naked ‘raqi, prance.

Let us take a photo of you

whle we’ve got the chance.

 

Flinch, flinch, flinch,

do those electrodes pinch?

Now we’ll have some fun because

they’ve given us an inch.

 

Cry, cry, cry,

yes, we could make you die.

You don’t know where Mecca is,

so don’t pray, just don’t try.

 

Plead, plead, plead,

it’s all we really need.

You wanna eat? Renounce your ways,

then we’ll choose who to feed.

 

Bend, bend, bend,

you’ll get it in the end.

You look like Death in that black hood,

he’ll be your newest friend.

 

Spill, spill, spill,

you’ll talk; we’ll break your will.

Geneva rules? A load of crap;

we’ll put you through the mill.

 

Crawl, crawl, crawl,

we’ll chain you to a wall.

We’ll make you wish you were not born;

how’s that for “shock and awe”?

05/11/2004

Author's Note: [This is not meant as an indictment of our fighting forces abroad, the majority of whom I am sure are honorable and respectable people. But all I could think of after seeing those photos was: if our own people were treated like this, I'd be shocked and outraged. Instead, I am shocked, outraged... and ashamed....]

[P.S.: Just after I posted this, I learned of the brutal execution of American Nick Berg by al-Qaida operatives. Looks like we just upped the ante, folks....]

Posted on 05/11/2004
Copyright © 2024 Bruce W Niedt

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Rula Shin on 05/12/04 at 11:28 PM

:-( Wonderful poem Bruce!

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