Replying to a comment on:

Mr. America (Hunting Season) (Free verse) by SupremeDreamer

Hunting season, the animals linger and I sit beneath the pine tree receiving judgement while I whistle a tune morbid and mocking. Dead rabbits strewn across my lap daydreaming, head full 'a wonder about when I can cook them and discontinue ignoring the music of the hammer. My pike decorated, with the head of my lawyer, the bastard said I was insane. I never liked the spineless turd anyway; a slight road bump, and now I have a fool for a client, but alas, folks always thought me so. That hammer pounds hard now.. seems the judge demands that I pay attention, causing me to throw my blade into his skull, shutting him up forever. Thank heavens, he was a boring little shit lecturing me like that.

SupremeDreamer 22-Oct-03/1:34 PM
its not a _BASE_ metaphor, first off, so who gives a shit?

second, so what if ive never hunted animals?
plus, animals werent my target.. you getting my drift captain nemo?

but its nice to know that youve suddenly taken an interest.

good bye. :)




Track and Plan your submissions ; Read some Comics ; Get Paid for your Poetry
PoemRanker Copyright © 2001 - 2024 - kaolin fire - All Rights Reserved
All poems Copyright © their respective authors
An internet tradition since June 9, 2001