a well-regulated militia of nineteen
drawn by a very close friend of the blog
several years ago.
Other arms rendered, whose
bearers aren't included here, are:
a sword, a slingshot, a wand, a bow,
an axe, a staff, a spear, a whip, a scythe,
a shield, a bomb , a hammer (two, in fact),
a stick and a plata. The young artist
also drew a lone dead combatant.
Verses originally accompanying
the drawings appear below.
Adrian's Arsenal: a Stockpile of Constrained Verse
Zany stick fygures (sic) pencill'd plain.
You but scroll to butt whole worlds of pain.
Chum: beware l'homme de guerre avec sword!
His fell move may well prove untoward.
Let's assume gents with boom- erangs might...
take their best shots from nests out of sight.
Any king heaving sling- shotted stone...
may assail. (David's tale is well known.)
Do avoid you a 'droid with a wand!
Run! Go now! (None know how to respond.)
(cont'd below)
Skip their bar- rows: tipp'd ar- rows. Take care!
Fear these guys! Near their thighs hangs a knife.
Who's not bet- tin' they'll threat- en your life?
Ought a per- son caught cur- sin' wield axes?
Not at all! Swat that gall 'fore it waxes!
Where's the luck! There's this schmuck with a crossbow.
'Nuf's enuf! None need suf- fer such loss. Go!
Shit! His staff splits me chaff from me wheat.
Clue this gent: "Git thee bent!" [Hit 'delete.']
(cont'd below)
When a bloke's yen to poke with a spear
your left side, what's left...? Hide! Disappear!
Chimes nex' cad, "I'm Rex Bhadd! Fear my pata!"
Joke's on him: folks him limn "vir non grata."
Ought a lad thought "not bad" with cane whips
get to snag that lit fag 'twixt pain'd lips?
Men may writhe when with scythe you attack 'em.
Moral's clear: more foil fear when they pack 'em.
"E-e-e-ek! A bomb," squeaks the Mom of this fellow.
"Show no fear!" 'swhat the dear gal should bellow.
Ev'ry boy- chik who'd toye (sic) with hammer...
must be tarr'd. (Trust you'll pard- on my grammar.)
Might who wields fright'ning shields run the risk...
of a scrap with a chap with a disc?
Sound th'alarm! Bounder's arm'd with a stick.
Answer? Charm: lance his karm- a with schtick!
Tykes with noth- in' like Goths in old Edda --
combat blind -- though that kind should know betta.
"One's soul's dead," some droll said, "empty handed.
Sans one's gun, man's undone: 'no-man's land'ed!"
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