Going Hunting Poem by Wojja Fink

Going hunting for some poets
The ones with bite and teeth
And when I find their tracks
I’ll rest a while beneath
And let their understanding
Sink deep into my bones
It could be from Mr.Homer
Or that man Mr. Jones.
And when I’ve caught a posse
Of ten maybe a score
I’ll stand them to attention
And sing them loud a loud Ohm’s law
Then we’ll sail a sailing galleon
And roam the seven seas
With thunder in the main sail
We’ll make good time with ease
With Mr. Ohm as Captain
We’ll seek the devils lair
And blind him in the light
And drag him by his hair
We’ll bury him far at sea
In fathoms blue and deep
And when he’s laid to rest
We won’t lose a wink of sleep
We won’t need a.45
Or blood upon a sword
And if I end up in court
I’ll plead 'guilty yes my Lord',
We took his ghostly fashion
And buried it deep at sea
So one more of your hearts
Shall ever more be free
For when we cast him out
Into the watery deep
Not a single poet amongst us
Did stand there and did weep
For they all know with reason
Just where the devil hides
In the shadows of illusion
Where selfishness resides
So Sir we all plead guilty
And would do it yet again
To free one more Soul from sorrow
From the devil’s heartless reign.