Chickens

Hillary Clinton, our greatest Secretary of State ever, has gathered a group of diplomats in Tunis, calling themselves Friends Of Syria, to convince the Syrian government of Bashir al Assad that they are not friends at all, but determined to drive him out of office. Of course, they don’t intend to use force, that would be too scary. Soft power, leading from behind, that’s the ticket. The Middle East is in turmoil, soon to be nuked up from Saudi Arabia to the Atlantic ocean, all because the Obama administration has not a clue as to how to resolve the mess it has created. And so we wait, as the proverbial flightless fowl return to the coop.

 

 

How they cowered in the bushes

Hidden deep inside the shade

Of the overhanging branches

Both bedeviled and afraid

We must all hang tough together

Said the nation’s foremost mind

We shall lead you all to safety

From positions far behind

Then a small voice from the benches

With a quiver said, “I think

That if we send him a letter

Of displeasure then he’ll blink.”

Then the sky began to darken

As they flew in, newly loosed

From the bushes cries of horror

“It’s the chickens, home to roost!”

 

 

 

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