Sandboxed In

The Russians and the Syrians: I wish them lots of luck.
As far as future for the Kurds – I just don’t give a fuck.
The Turkish and the Syrians can hash it out between them;
I don’t care if the Kurds think my response here submarined them.

Obama got us started with this crew; the war’s a relic.
The Kurds know how to fight, but please don’t think that they’re angelic.
Strategically my handling of this matter shines with brilliance –
No matter if it’s led to death for innocent civilians.

I’m sending both my Mikes (that’s V.P. Pence, also Pompeo)
To hash it out with Erdoğan. I’ve briefed them so that they know
There has got to be a ceasefire, and the Turkish need to stand down.
(Though Recep’s made it clear he’d rather meet with me, the Grand Clown.)

I will claim some sort of victory, which smells more like defeat does,
While continuing to claim my order having troops retreat was
One more staggering achievement, for which I deserve the credit.
(But if things go further south, it’s certain I’ll deny I said it.)

There’s a lot of sand in Syria for Kurds and Turks to play with.
(Making out like it’s a playground? Hope that’s one I’ll get away with.)
And despite my latest brilliance, there’s just no two ways around it:
Since as far as all that sand goes, I have told the Kurds, “Go pound it.”

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