B-Cinquante - Deux - Poem by Paul Warner
Here they come to bomb my carpet!
I knew I should have deloused with anti- gook spray,
But I don't have the time.
Now they're here again!
I wouldn't mind but they take all the colour
out of my thick pile, and the images of the temples,
Look jaded even more, combined with a whiff of mourning napalm.
These high flying birds bombed for breakfast,
Lunch, dinner, supper, dessert, and even as a snack!
The border is fraying badly, like a poorly sewed
Patchwork quilt. All to eradicate unwanted guests
From settling into my woven plaid paddies of rice design.
What good had it done? The Kinda Rouge applaud, as the rural carpet dwellers run to them to stop this unweaving of their tightly woven world.
Eventually emptied the BUFFS retire to another future cause, but the imbalances in my carpet remain.
A new Kinda Rouge has arisen, and is moving my pile base around the floor.
Infected with Maoism, this new inhabitant wants to create
Half a century of the Great Leap Forward and the Cultural Revolution instantly.
All rolled into one in my shag pile!
When will it end!
Maybe I'll just remove the bad dream,
And lay a parquet floor instead!
It was once French Indochina after all!
Poet's Notes about The Poem
Big Ugly Flying Fuckers,
Comments about B-Cinquante - Deux by Paul Warner
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.