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Poetry By: Juli Monat

Losing war against bugs.

Submitted:Mar 7, 2013    Reads: 6    Comments: 0    Likes: 0   


I bought a hand-gun, to protect-

and defend, my green lawn,

don't step on my grass; damn mass,

strangers, you're tresspasing my property,

do or don't: you'll be blown,

to bits and feces,

you heard me, you got my warning,

I'll shoot; stay put,

right where you are, don't make it, hard,

one-cat's-foot, and you'll be...Kaput!

from coast to coast; I'm your nightmare-host,

you can get it, at no extra cost...To you!

again, I won't repeat, the same,

Get off!

you came with force, hostile, testing my

projectile; I...never give-up,

or reconcile...I'm ready! Make your move!

take no prisoners; is my chant!

Mothra! have mercy on you!

I won't; Bastards! little-tiny...Fire-ants!

By: Juli Monat

Copyright (c) 2013


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