I, Assassin Poem by Francie Lynch

I, Assassin



I was an assassin,
With magnifying glass and firecrackers,
Bringing Sodom's destruction down on pismires.
BB's left feathers fluttering on powerlines;
Slingshots made Swiss cheese of tree nests.
It's the Wild West outside the urban boundary
Where the.22 slew coyotes and red-tailed foxes.
Old dogs and tired cats were destroyed.
And just now, when the January thaw is here,
I trapped a housefly between my windows,
Opened to draw air.
It will die of starvation in a merciless frenzy.
"Murder, " cried the old king.
"Most foul."

Monday, January 15, 2018
Topic(s) of this poem: hunting,murder,wildlife
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Francie Lynch

Francie Lynch

Monaghan, Ireland
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