Pop Culture Poetry: Sarge (G.I. Joe)

2 Sep


Ten-hut, you maggot! On your feet
You spineless little puke!
I’m not all warm and fuzzy like
That other sergeant, Duke

My job’s to whip you into shape
And yeah, I’m talking WHIP!
It will not take a long time to
See I run a tight ship

‘Cause stakes are high and we’re at war
With ruthless terrorists
When you’ve emptied your last clip
You’ll come at them with fists!

And if they blow your arms off then
You’ll kick ‘em in the brass
And if they blow your legs off too
You’ll bite them on their ass!

Do I make myself clear, grunt?
There is no “quit” for you!
I don’t care if your heart stops
And if your face turns blue

You will continue as a corpse
You spineless little worm!
Death is not something that makes
A real G.I. Joe squirm!

It’s just an itty, bitty little
Setback for us, son!
You will get up, you will dust off
And then reload that gun!

You will not stop because the stakes
Are this flag that I wave
You will help keep it “Land of Free”
As well as “Home of Brave”

Now drop and give me twenty, slime!
Before this here baton
Finds its way across your face
And makes that smile gone!

Ok, not bad, at ease, disease
You didn’t make me sick
Hit the showers and your bunk
And give your wounds a lick

Because if you thought this was bad
Just wait until tomorrow!
You haven’t seen the slightest bit
Of real heartbreak or sorrow!

You’ll do it ‘cause I tell you to
You’ll run and jump and show
The enemy that we’re the best
While yelling out “YO JOE!”



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