Wittgenstein's Spare Puma
Nascent longing, unrecognized, but pure:
Plants reach for the sun, their roots for manure
Rats long for the trapper, rabbits for the gun
The sapling is quite restless if it does not eat a bun
Plangent singing, a haunting sound, but sweet:
The footsteps of the peasants in the street,
Tired of all the rapping, hobbits seek a ring
That might enhance their powers to entrance string
Innocent dreams, unsullied yet by sin:
What gives me power by downing some gin?
The happy little rabbits hop around
Until I beat their brains out on the ground
| Contributors: | Apsley, fester, Roland. |
| Poem finished: | 8th November 2001. |