On the road to Kandahar
I smoked a rather large cigar
and bounced about my armored car,
while on the road to Kandahar.
While on my way on down to Khost
I chatted with the Holy Ghost.
We sipped our tea and munched our toast
all down the road to dusty Khost.
I found the weather warm and fine
all up and down the border line.
I dodged a dog, but hit a mine
while trekking down the border line.
I've looked and looked but cannot see
a Taliban who looks like me -
clean-shaven, yes and fancy free -
I think we'd get on famously.
They say that we are loosing here.
I say we need more pop and beer
to bring us hope and lend us cheer
while we are posted over here.
I don't know much about this place,
don't speak the language of this race
but armies past have left no trace
of victory or grim disgrace.
They say that Rudyard Kipling knew
these dusty peaks, these skies of blue
when British soldiers trampled through
these trails where Alexander slew.
While on the road up to Kabul
I ran into a bloody fool
who told me we were not the tool
that Karzai needs to set his rule.
A contest entry
- Absolute Nonsense! by marciakay81.
525 points, ended June 4, 2008, 16 entries
Honorable mention
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
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Yes, but did a damn fine job rearranging the rocks in a feng shui pattern.
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yes, what she said.
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this is wonderful. i love the perfect blend of nonsense with the seriousness of current affairs. bravo!
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Merci beaucoup.
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