My father curses you from his grave,
You avaricious garbage-pail, depraved
Beyond redemption, not to mention how
Deprived you are of any shards of soul.
My father didn’t want to leave three kids
But yet he did, to fight the Fascists and keep
Us safe from crazy, kleptocratic autocrats, intent
On pillaging our villages and killing our freedom.
My wife’s uncle, at 20, had reasons plenty to stay home
And not run off to Rome, to spend his youth fighting Nazis
So uncouth they pissed on Jewish graves, including his own,
Dug deep into Europe’s hills, before The War was won.
And now, you come, you avaricious garbage pail,
Face so callow and puffy, skin so pale, voice a callous peale,
To tear down the democratic fortress their blood sealed,
Defeating & containing dictators for 70 years–your lifetime–
You chin-thrusting shill for Russian mobsters, you pig squeal.
My father and his fellow GI’s curse you from their graves,
You avaricious garbage-pail, depraved more than the jackals
Who feasted on the entrails of dead soldiers and civilians,
Growing fat, insatiably feasting on the flesh of humans.
The soldiers of democracy’s fortune, from here and abroad,
Curse you from their graves, you fraud, knowing the courage of their brave
Allies who, from different lands, came together for a cause,
Not simply for applause, nor profit, but to save the world,
From avaricious, kleptocratic, autocratic, garbage pails like you.