now that we have killed
the pigeons who made
a lot of shit on our window
sills
we got after dogs
who piss in the vicinity
and bite our kids
and then when the dogs
are finished
but our anger isn't
we shall kill the children
who make noise on the swing
then the old people
who don’t seem to
rationalize
or materialize
into our game plan
and keep ringing the wrong doorbells
that leaves us with just us
wise, middle aged men -
we shall party through the
night and enjoy barbeques
till our laughter reaches
the wild, new morning
and we reach home
to find our wives sleeping
with other men
who have kept a glass of poisoned tonic
by the bed side
for us to drink
© Rochelle Potkar
June 2009
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