Fidele Castro Poem by Sheena Blackhall

Was Castro made of Teflon?
Or a child of Superman?
The CIA in America
Couldn't make him kick the can

Here's how they didn't do it:
They coated his clothing, once
With thallium salts to encourage
His hair to fall out in chunks

They sprayed his broadcasting studio
With mind changing LSD
Before a televised speech went out.
Did it hit him? No sirree!

They poisoned a box of his favorite cigars
With botulinus toxin
They tried to make his cigar blow up
But nothing they tried could fox him

They placed explosive seashells
In his favourite diving spots.
But under the waves was he worried?
His hide was made of rocks

With a hypodermic needle
They rigging his ballpoint pen
To poison the leader's finger
Another misfire again!

They doused his diving wetsuit
With bacteria and mould spores
With lethal chemical agents
In his scuba diving drawers

They wet his hankies, coffee and tea
With horrid bacteria
They paid a former lover
They engaged the Mafia

To poison an ice cream cone to kill
Fidele by foul means
He died at the age of 90
Surviving all their schemes

And whether you loved or hated him
He was made of stern stuff
But ten years off his century
It was time to cry ‘Enough! '