captain | petersironwood

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He steers the listing ship of state

With blinded, bulging eyes

And gaping, rancid lips.

The more he fails, the more he flails,

No big surprise he screams and wails;

With jiggling, wriggling hips.

A fool, a lout, who loves to pout.

With every breath he lies;

With every order tries

To kill another thousand souls.

For those are Pappa Putin’s goals.

He’s one of Moscow’s favorite moles.

He kills for rubles? Lack of scruples?

I don’t care. Do you? Or you?

And once the toll quadruples?

We finally call a fraud a fraud

And oust the ruthless prig?

And throw him in the brig?

It’ll make poor Vlad both sad & blue.

But I won’t care? Will you? Or, you?

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petersironwood