A swain who worked near the Euphrates
Had quite a smooth way with the ladies:
When he tried for a kiss,
He would not ever miss,
So I had him lowered into an acid bath until his screams woke the dead.
A Baath Party bureaucrat thought
He’d defy me and never get caught.
Imagine his shock
When, called in to talk,
He was thrown from the 12th-story window of the interrogation office.
One Abdul Ghani Shindala
Was especially good, a cappella,
At singing the praises
Of foes and disgraces,
So I had the traitorous cur assassinated after he fled the country.
A comely young lady from Nippur
Was always quite friendly and chipper.
It’s a shame to relate,
But her fiancé’s fate
Was to contribute to the labyrinth of bones beneath my torture stadium.
A Samarra cleric persisted
In the praising of persons blacklisted.
I was left little choice
But to limit his voice
By feeding his extracted tongue to birds of carrion.