Colin F. Jones


The serpent said: “George, your fruit tree looks lean,
And there are orchards in middle eastern places,
Out there good man, where your father has been,
Where he put smiles on some Kuwaiti faces.
But he didn’t finish the job, he left it to you,
To send more pickers to fill up the crates,
So it is time now to go or at least send a few,
To collect some Bagdadian dates.
But first you must find Saddam Inssain,
He’s probably hiding in a hole like a rat,
And bring him to trial that he can explain,
Why he wears a bushy black beard like that,
Instead of a ball attached to a chain,
An orange suit and a silly striped hat.”

“It’s OK, Mr Snake,” said George, “it’s war!
Only I know how to handle it right,
It’s easy you know, I just make a law,
No point in being polite.
Even our own we will shoot down or chain
Them on suspicion of being extremist,
In a place remote where they will remain,
Guarded by screws who are simply the meanest.
We’ll go wherever they go (more oil you know)
Without glancing back and behind,
Whether hidden in sand or covered in snow
All WMD’s we’ll find:
According to the laws me and God make,
Elegantly thought out and clearly defined.”