16. bullet through the intruder's head

Loving the morning










I love to belong into the early dawn circle

Even if only discussing

The earlier fires that ravaged

The small businesses

The big businesses wanted ravaged

In order for them to build on the ravaged

Grounds.



Love to belong among the pestering sobbers

And the blubbering complainers.



Love to belong for a while in the circle of humanity

If only commiserating with those that lost

heir earnings and their little businesses

If only cursing and railing against big business

And the big business thugs

That disguised as arsonist thugs

Burned down the whole row of little businesses.



I love to disengage myself from the depressing circle

Grab a friend

And walk together on the roofs

Munching toasted slices

Of bread.



I love to peer into the two windows

Where my old humorous drawings

Are exposed on the walls

My old humorous drawings

Funnily twisted little guys colored

With colors bright

And sensible nonetheless

.

I love to stand at the door of my house

When the rows burn.



Love to defend my property

And my friend

With a shotgun and a clean shot

Through the intruder’s

Forehead.