Abe chastises: "Slaves are men!" Let's kill him.
Martin plies his righteous pen. Let's kill him.
Lennon peace would give a chance.
Milk won't cease: he'll gays advance.
Till's caprice...? Towards white gals glance. Let's kill 'em.
Gandhi talks and walks the walk. Let's kill him.
Joe Hill balks: he's more than talk. Let's kill him.
Guevara's rex of moral fights.
Don Bolles protects folks' civil rights.
And Malcolm X upsets us whites. Let's kill 'em.
Romero's shepherd to his flock. Let's kill him.
RFK calls crime "a crock." Let's kill him.
Tiller...? He's for women's health.
Lenin redistributes wealth.
Hey! Who's that knockin' corp'rate pelf...? Let's kill 'em.
Poet Poe pens nonsense verse. "Plus...phun," puns Uly, "I disburse." Its gamut runs from spam to worse. The po'sy posted...? Poe's diverse -- most, postcards from his universe, replies to grudges he must nurse. My summary...? Let me be terse: a mitzva, mostly. (Not a curse.)
No comments:
Post a Comment