I have a lovely fishing boat
my wife is full of child.
I'm watching dark clouds gathering
the winds are blowing wild.
My neighbour is a drunken slob
his kids religious nuts
He drinks while all the decent folks
are busy building huts.
It rains and rains and rains
and then we understand his goals
God goes around the boatyards
and fills the boats with holes.
The water rises slowly
my wife has birthing pains
My lovely daughter cries 'I'm here'
and then drowns in the rains.
All praise to god, he understands
as christians will assert,
it's necessary to control
despite the hurt the hurt the hurt
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Comments about this poem (Noah's Ark by Phil Willmott )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(28 November 1757 – 12 August 1827)
William Butler Yeats
(13 June 1865 – 28 January 1939)
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