The Pissing Tree

A tongue in cheek poem I wrote about a California shit hole where the battalion went to play war games.

Had a rifle squad on a high hill.
Porta cans at the bottom, hot full gear hump up & down if one needed to pee.
People drinking water all the time so they don’t dehydrate.
One half dead tree on top of the hill.
The Ole Dog! made a command decision.
Told the females, don’t look if you don’t want to see!
The whole squad came to affectionally call that barely clinging to life tree, The Pissing Tree!
When I was real good and disgusted by some stupid officer shit, I often waxed poetic.
Some of the best of them should not be recited around young children or self righteous folks!

The Ole Seabee Dog!

‘The Pissing Tree’

The Battalion said come go with me-
And we will show you the pissing tree-
You could fly to paradise, walk along Waikiki-
Or cross the sea to gay Parie-
You can travel far and wide-
Go to the coast and watch the tide-
But nothing will thrill you so much you see-
Than to go to Ligget land and see the pissing tree!

The Ole Dog!

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