Wednesday, November 10, 2004
Trying To Put An End To It
"Bickering Iraqis Strive to Build Voting Coalition"
The New York Times
Sunday November 7th 2004
My kids were at it in the other room.
I'd been in once to stop them but
they kept going on and on and on. I
got the biggest piece of machinery I
could think of – the lawn mower
and hauled it into the house. It
was a struggle, so huge, not really
designed for indoor use at all. I
ploughed straight across my carpet
and on through to where they were still
spittin'. This time they looked up, guilty, well
obviously trying to hide something but
nope, I was determined. I had the thing running
at full speed so at first they
scattered
but I mowed 'em down went right over 'em
smashing toys ripping clothes bodies lost it called
to the neighbours to help me who crowded
round musta broke in the front door bringing
their own more kids there was screaming
blood dust sparks everything flying
dying brutal stinking gore up the walls
and those that hadn't come with chainsaws
or electric drills simply stomped
and swore no remorse no scheme
for anything no planning what to do
next how to clean up this mess
and it was all destruction
awesome! some kind
of intermittent peace some sniggering
but at least them kids quit
bickering
"Bickering Iraqis Strive to Build Voting Coalition"
The New York Times
Sunday November 7th 2004
My kids were at it in the other room.
I'd been in once to stop them but
they kept going on and on and on. I
got the biggest piece of machinery I
could think of – the lawn mower
and hauled it into the house. It
was a struggle, so huge, not really
designed for indoor use at all. I
ploughed straight across my carpet
and on through to where they were still
spittin'. This time they looked up, guilty, well
obviously trying to hide something but
nope, I was determined. I had the thing running
at full speed so at first they
scattered
but I mowed 'em down went right over 'em
smashing toys ripping clothes bodies lost it called
to the neighbours to help me who crowded
round musta broke in the front door bringing
their own more kids there was screaming
blood dust sparks everything flying
dying brutal stinking gore up the walls
and those that hadn't come with chainsaws
or electric drills simply stomped
and swore no remorse no scheme
for anything no planning what to do
next how to clean up this mess
and it was all destruction
awesome! some kind
of intermittent peace some sniggering
but at least them kids quit
bickering
Comments:
It seems politiks have swallowed up your sense of humor, as well as rhythm and music. What I look for in your work, gone missing.
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