Small minded self important worm,
My curse on you this day.
If you could see yourself you'd squirm,
And shrivel clean away.
A public servant, you refuse
The service we expect,
And anyone who might accuse,
You scornfully reject.
A yapping dog behind a gate,
You use the Regulations
To shield yourself from your just fate,
A coward's tribulations.
If you have wed a cross grained wife
Who will not toast your bread,
I wish you seven times the strife,
And biscuit crumbs in bed.
And may she snore throughout the night,
And scream at you all day,
And you, despairing in your plight,
Afraid to run away.
Your children, or at least your wife's,
Will treat you to their sneers.
Your spirit is so mean that life's
Pleasures bring only tears.
We all know what you're trying to do.
They call it self assertion,
But what inadequacies brew
This paranoid perversion?
I will not remain detached and cool.
I need not take the trouble
To curse you when, poor silly fool,
You curse yourself, and double.
Hornbeck Sentry, 14 March
©1997 C. R. Hilton