On the African savannah,
The mission brief had been simple.
Go in and find a Warthog,
The Americans had nuked the place,
Then claimed there had been none,
To begin with.
The Israelis against strong,
Had sent in Mossad,
Why go in looking like food?
They lost good men to lions,
But eventually got their warthog.
The Africans, however,
Had not reported by nightfall,
So at daybreak a search party was launched.
They found three sweaty soldiers,
Whipping a giraffe,
Spread-eagled securely to an Acacia tree,
Whilst the Sergeant-at-arms
“Confess you’re a Warthog, confess!”
See – nigger, whore, bitch!
♦photo – webstockpro.com♦
evocative short poetry – words move