In the aftermath of Nuremburg
The Allies cast the net out
To pull in Nazis of lesser infamy.
General Burkhalter ratted out Colonel Klink,
Then took a powder to Argentina
To play pinochle with Doctor Mengele.
The morning of Wilhelm Klink's trial,
A long black limousine pulled up
To monopolize the parking space
In front of the Judicial Building.
Corporal Newkirk, the charming con-man, card sharp
And master of disguise, roused himself from his dream
Of changing his name to "Richard Dawson"
And becoming a randy game show host
To mutter, "Jesus Christ! Won't you look at that?"
"That's old Sergeant Schultz," Frenchy LeBeau exclaimed.
"I'd heard that he made a killing in the Black Market
During the war, but I never believed it until now."
"That bloody clever rotter!" Newkirk chortled,
Laughing the appreciative glee of a scammer
Who recognizes the beauty of someone else's con.
"When that old fox kept telling us and telling us
'I know nothing. NOTHING!'
That shrewd old son of a bitch
Really DID know something."
Quality poetry with depth, interesting imagery and content steeped in the author's love of history and literature. Scroll down to my profile on the lower left side of this blog. It references my writing credentials, which include a nomination for a Pushcart Award, and being chosen by the North American Review as a finalist for the James Hearst Poetry Award. Personal Favorites: "What if Wile E. Coyote had Caught the Road Runner" "Whatever Happened to Clyde Clifford"
Showing posts with label Hogan's Heroes. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Hogan's Heroes. Show all posts
Saturday, August 17, 2013
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