Putin had a little gun Some vodka and a sock And planned to have a massive wank But couldn't find his cock It never had been very big But now it was so small He couldn't find the fucking thing At all Putin had a little gun Nostalgia and psychosis And rather, so was rumoured round A profound halitosis And everywhere he went he left An atmosphere and smell And a little pile of unused socks As well Putin had a little gun Delusions and an army And plans to overtake the world That were quite frankly barmy He'd always had his issues And been proudly narcissistic But now he couldn't come he went Ballistic Putin had a little gun A lovely shiny table A hidden room in which he liked To dress as Betty Grable A wardrobe full of furry coats And rather fetching hats And an oubliette in which he kept Dead cats Putin had a little gun It really was frustrating 'I only vant' he said, 'to spend My evening masturbating I've fantasies of papering My Betty room with jizz But I don't know where my tiny Penis is' Putin had a little gun Some missiles and some tanks And plans to rule the Western world And crack off lots of wanks The best laid plans of mice and men Can oft go badly wrong Especially when you can't find your Dong Putin had a little gun Some vodka and a sock A nuclear intention And a lot of novichok Some thermobaric weapons That were frighteningly hot And a tiny flaccid penis that Was not Putin had a little gun It often is the case That sexual frustration Undermines the human race Humiliate a little man And dare to mock and scoff And he'll soon find something else he can Crack off Putin had a little gun 'I vant to rule the vorld!' He pouted in his mirror With his top lip slightly curled It used to work much better when He dressed as Betty Grable But yet again he found himself Unable © Gail Foster 28th February 2022
Resistance
Fronts ~ a rhyme for Ukraine
There's many ways to win a war. With guns You've got to have the bullets though for those And someone's got to carry them. With tons Of tanks. You got the diesel? Nothing goes Unless there's diesel. Coming in a bit Oh is it? See it come across the bridge That isn't there. With soldiers that are fit For fuck all when there's nothing in the fridge You haven't got. We've got a lot of planes Or will have when we've sorted out the fuel And then we'll soon be splattering your brains And blowing you from here to kingdom come Oh will you now. "Don't shoot! I want my Mum" There's many ways to win a war. With turds Thrown over burning barricades. You got A match? Too fucking right I have. With words You fire them right and you can hit the spot There's other things than bullets make you bleed And other things than bombs to use to teach That woman and the soldier and the seed - In war there's also hearts and minds to reach You take this seed, she said, and when you fall In our dear country, from your lonely grave Will come a bloom so beautiful and tall That no-one will recall the life you gave You're going to blow us all to kingdom come? Oh are you now. "Don't shoot! I want my Mum" There's many ways to win a war. Sun Tzu Had lots to say on strategy, and still He's widely read and what he says is true But these days there are other ways to kill And things that can be done by little men So many ways civilians can play That Sun Tzu didn't know about back then How different a world it is today So many fronts that it's a job to know Which one to fight them on at any time Flak jacket on, my friend, and off you go And I'll stay here and write my little rhyme “They're going to blow us all to kingdom come!” Too right we are. "Don't shoot! I want my Mum" © Gail Foster 26th February 2022
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