Hit the Dirt

Reads: 162  | Likes: 0  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 2

More Details
Status: Finished  |  Genre: Humor  |  No Houses
A poem about "Timber!"

Submitted: May 11, 2011

A A A | A A A

Submitted: May 11, 2011



Hit The Dirt  

 This group of totally insane teens

thought up a game that would be oh-so keen

Up in the woods there were branches all over the place

They would throw them at each other until someone caught a branch, square in the face

They split into two teams and took to the woods

One team up the hill, one downhill, is where they stood

The team at the bottom was dumber than s**t,

but they figured they were closer to help, in case they got hit

Now, some of these branches weren’t branches, hell, they were logs,

that if they hit someone in the head it would send them into a dense fog

Like I said, these kids were a bunch of crazy sons of b*****s

They proceeded to hurl them, while dodging the other’s pitches

The team at the bottom thought it was raining lumber,

while trying to avoid taking a permanent slumber,

while the kids at the top found it easy to avoid the uphill,

feeble, pathetic, chucks of the team on the bottom, and had their fill

of juicy targets from which they could choose,

so they took a break to guzzle some booze

That only made them braver as they switched places

They continued the game until one of the down hillers tripped on his shoe laces

while trying to side-step a huge, jagged, airborne piece

He did a face plant and went down in a heap-eez

The log hit him right on his head

He lay there motionless, they thought he was dead

At last, he stood up, and as the blood ran in streams,

yelled like a banchee, “Y’all think you’ve won, but it’s only a dream!”

And he reached for a branch that he had dropped at his feet,

and promptly nailed this uphill kid in the face, which immediately turned beet

red right under his eye, and that’s when they decided to call

a truce since each side had a guy hit, but that wasn’t all

For getting the same thrills, they decided to go

get their bee-bee guns to shoot at each other, then, they would know

which team had won the painful war,

for they were some real dim-bulbs, who kept returning for more!

© Copyright 2017 Mike Stevens. All rights reserved.

Add Your Comments: