A monster such as Terry Jones,
The Koran-burning psychopath,
A conscientious world bemoans
For bringing on a blood-filled bath
When vengeful Afghan Muslims struck
A U.N. site and ran amok.
His lunatic decree of guilt
(The book immersed in kerosene)
He played obscenely to the hilt
Although on media unseen.
They’d evidently blacked him out,
But YouTubers were thereabout.
I liked the lack of coverage.
The last time that he made the threat,
Petraeus asked him please to hedge
Such histrionics. Don’t forget:
The general runs our Afghan ops
And suffers when each trooper drops.
Ironic, in a theater
You can’t yell fire without cause.
But in a theater of war
There are no free-speech curbing laws
Except for gutsy journalists,
While far from danger Jones persists.
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