Warning! Warning! Warning! Content and Language!

Ingredients
Wild Witches Stew

1/3 cup butter or margarine & 1/2 cup sliced green onions & 1/2 cup shredded carrots
1/2 cup all-purpose flour & 4 cups chicken broth & 2 cups cooked brown rice
1/2 cup cooked wild rice &
1 body of minced ham of Saddam (or Bin Laden) - dead or alive (preferably alive!)
&
1/4 teaspoon ground white pepper & 1/4 teaspoon thyme & 1 cup half and half
1 tablespoon dry sherry (optional) & 1/4 cup toasted slivered almonds
& 21 screaming frogs
& the liver of a diseased dead Republican
( I know what U R thinking, but i voted for Bush the father, my only Republican vote!)

--- woops, almost forgot, at least 1 live rat

On this Red Dawn blue skies bled red,
In prospect of stewing the genocidal Man of Dread,
A monster who'll be cooked by tyrants just as cruel,
He too, will be paraded and demoralized by pure fools.

In his black cauldron they'll add 'Red' onions with spicy spice,
A little black pepper and 'White' salt would also be nice,
They'll tell the world his 'Blue' flesh will taste so swell,
Male b*tches will baste a somewhat white N*gger.

And if his cast iron pot doesn't burn with poetic justice;
We'll add stolen desert oil to stimulate American flames;
We'll scar our peoples with spiced tales of terror and fear;
We'll cook our infamous prize for better than a year!

The Axis of Evil does and will always survive,
Even if we cook the murderous Man of Dread alive.
Now any society within 1,000 miles of his home town,
Will be seasoned, sautéed, and eaten with bloody red wine.

The Tiger of the Tigress hasn't lost it all,
We'll take his dignity before the Ides of March call,
O Heartland Heroes! O Bleak Land with Phony Seal!
O Mockery!  O Foul Pride! O Sour Stew! O Shame! Cry!

The Axis of Evil has shifted West,
Now God will judge us like the rest,
Subtle hints of too much garlic and Cajun salt,
Too any bullying cooks, will ruin our fleshy recipe.

Now, we'll craft an excuse for our acts,
We'll totally crucify all the facts,
Usama Bin Laden your hint is Heartland corn ...


We'll fatten you, lick our tongues, await a thrilling kill ...



My thought for the day: Thank God my daughter changed her mind about becoming a journalist. I'll tell the mothers of all the dead - it was worth it.

Note: "No" rhyme scheme, whatsoever, was used in this poem.

Also, I had changed, White Nigger to "an old turkey", but I just couldn't leave it that way.

Ok, I admit i lost it when Dan Rather kept repeating that Sad-dam didn't pull his gun and go down fighting. What an *sshole. Whatever, happened to journalist integrity? They quickly shaved his beard so he wouldn't get sympathy.

Don't get me wrong, Saddam's a monster, pure evil come home to roost, but so are many people here who ignore what crimes "we" commit in the name of National Security. Just my opinions - those of a "hunted" man who sees the trill in the eyes of the people who hunt me. That's the greatest joy of them all, greater than child birth, greater than fame and fortune - hunting a man and grinding him into the ground. No apologies.

The above text is copyright © ShyPoet1 ~ 2003,
and may not be reproduced without permission.