Irony on the Cross

Restless in my bunk

I listened to tank fire

machine gun laughter,

sounds of war.

Felt my bunk jumpin

heard our platoon leader screamin,

felt our barracks collapse and Elvis

smiled for the cameras, superstar.

Creedence ran through the jungle

Johnson shined his surgery scar

And the world said “fuck you”

to Ho chi minh

Trump developed spurs

Pence saw a barber

Mother screwed him silly

Washington, a home for curs.