Mark Heathcote (22/03/66 / Manchester)
Wouldn't that be exquisite?
To take the law—into,
Your own hands—at times,
Now chaps! Think!
'Wouldn't that be exquisite? '
To murder—and feel nothing
'Nothing for that evil merchant banker'
But a poignant scarlet track of blood:
Drip! Dripping from; your trigger finger.
Dripping down a; runny-wet palm.
…Undoing their bidders' propaganda.
With the same said liberal impunity.
Oh—so they too go' off limit?
Well, so let us: let us…
Undo their entire tax programing budgets.
Fill-in their Hedge-fund gaps with bullets.
Let's revolt have our own little revolution!
Take it all—back! …Back to nature's law.
An eye for an eye a tooth for a tooth
Should cowardice break her reigns?
Riotousness and Righteousness'…
'Could again; marry Mr Propitiousness.'
And homely will be his life with one lady,
Who possess one of all three Charities?
Comments about this poem (Wouldn't that be exquisite? by Mark Heathcote )
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