I’m sly, I do not go to war —
Old, I have an excuse.
I call the young to the front.
Under someone’s whooping and snickering.

Angry at the TCC
With its bribe-taking mug.
And Putin, that louse,
Is kept for later by karma.

If not Ukraine,
Then Europe will stop him,
Without the runaways and with them.
When God intervenes,
The spring of truth will unwind —
We’ll see who the sucker is.