By Crazy Horse (anonymous from Norway)

A traveler asked a goatherd in an Antique Land, “where is the hegemon?”
The goatherd said, “the Hegemon was in a hurry, airlifted from the roof. He’s gone.”
The traveler thought, “sounds like back in the days of Saigon?”
The goatherd asked the hegemon if he could spare him a dime.
The hegemon said, “he was out of cash, “have some poppies, will make you rich in a flash.” The goatherd refused and replied, “O serpent heart hid with a flowering face, I rather starve until end of time.”
In the White House, a mockingbird had previously asked the foggy bank of DC. “Will the Taliban take control over there in Afghanistan.”
The answer was with a sneer of old command, “No. Not a chance,’Have a look at my works, ye Mighty and despair,’ just wait and see.”
Within days before pheasant guerillas took over, in a collapse so boundless and bare. All the superior military tech, the humiliation, and defeat, a post-modern, ideological colossal wreck. Those moments, you ask, what was the cost for this again?
Trillions of dollars around the decay.
People demoralized dying in vain for a plan to seize control of oil-rich lands, Central Asia, pipelines cross the grounds of ancient clans.
After killing the lion of Panjshir.
Blew up a country hunting down a sick and dying cave Emir, a Saudi sheik, a patsy.
Took taxes from nations in the west, washed them away to a transnational elite, the military-industrial machine got catchy, few compete.
Contractors in the fields, dogs of war scrubbed money clean, made Boeing, Raytheon, and their complex soar.
An endless theatre, Operation Hypocrisy, building nations, bombing their people to democracy, in a war for terror and drugs with clandestine thugs.
Massive profits after poppies chopped, borders hopped, ratlines, mules, Black- Ops rules, bringing out that heroin.
The Golden goose, a product clean, a powder mean, licensed to kill, slow death moving through ports, bases, and over the hill.
To gangsters in a wasteland, to a place, you’ll lose if close acquaintances choose.
Welcome to the twenty years of the Mission Accomplished contingency plan, from the graveyard of empires Afghanistan.


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