THE SENATE AND THE GENERAL
(A NONSENSE POEM)
The senate and the general sat down to talk one day.
The senate asked the general how long we had to stay
In
The general replied at length just what he had deduced:
"The situation calls for balance and a great degree
of gravy boats and woolen coats and silver filigree.
When the time is ripe we'll know the signs, you can be sure –
The hollyhocks will hover and the Beatles go on tour.
Diplomats will walk upon the ice cream shores in shoes
Made from velcroed spinach, tooting on their red kazoos.
Little lambs and lions will lay down to play Go Fish.
Swords will whip up platters of light sweet potato knish.
That Martians run our baseball games, beginning with Babe Ruth.
Then and only then will be the time for our withdrawal,
When anvils fly and pizza pie grows legs on which to crawl."
The senate heard the frank reply of general Petraeus;
Like a ruffled petticoat they yelled: "You won't obey us!"
"Cart this fellow off into a vat of cold beef stew
until he learns the difference 'tween the pool stick and the cue.
Then and only then can we get out of this darn pickle –
And if that doesn't change his mind then maybe a hard brick'll!"
The general was plunged into a broth of tepid beef –
The only thing that saved him was a buoyant
Deciding that retreat was better than this gelid bath,
Petraeus told his guards he had been doing some quick math:
"If we take out all our troops before this coming
we can say the war is done and picnic all of June.
Tell the senate I'll be glad to lead the troops home quick;
Then they can send this soup I'm in to all the poor and sick!"
And so our land enjoyed a plush, homogenous parade,
While Iraqis in their coffins by thousands rudely stayed.
Let this be a lesson to all those who have good hope –
Every cloud has silver fleas and every judge a rope.
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