Steele steeled his stance,
Fighting for freedom in France,
Really ready to reel Russians
In and insinuate intrigue.
Dreaded documents dredged
Up from underworld undertakings
Show sinister situations,
Blackmail baking in baddies’ brains.
He humps his home-movie
Back to bloody Britain
And advocates for absolution
Of the outstanding ordeal.
Friends faint following the film,
So he sends some signals
At an American agent
That things are taking turns.
But Bob believes his boss.
Pee-pee parties with presidents
Are too astronomically atrocious
For free freedmen to finagle.
So Steele steels his stance,
Takes tea at the typical time,
Cares about the Six Counties, and
Watches the world wither.
This was written for the Terrible Poetry Contest #17, under the table dealings, run by Chelsea Owens. I do have to say that this is, by far, the worst poem I believe I’ve yet published on WP.
Also sorry for the political intrigue, but pee-pee parties have to be one of the worst possible subjects to write about.