Limits Of Control - Poem by Ian McArthur
Come and see my molotovs-
-Oh! nearly one there slippin' off.
Glass from milk, juice, coke, drink and wine-
-What? Ah no, that candles fine.
Where was I? Oh yeah, the nooses-
-Hmm? Too loose, this one deduces.
See 'em all with rag of white
still quite full but still quite light.
Of course at fist one would think-
-Hey hey? Who's spilt up that petrol stink?
Anyway ways- would think 'em fine
Sure, tested 'em myself at the old line.
Meant sure to have a hearty throw
Them's like soldiers standin' to a row.
What? Damn it all! They're outta line
For I think the hundredth time-
-Take that fag outside you twit!
You know i hate the smell of it.
So's so's, heres 'em all
Squatters like a stumpy wall
Waitin' in this secluded shack
Waitin' for the grand attack
'Cause the future's lookin' stark...
more so if there is a spark.
Comments about Limits Of Control by Ian McArthur
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep
Mary Elizabeth Frye
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You