Poetry

(with apologies to Roger Woddis)
 
If I had my way with communist men
I’d bath them all in oil,
I’d fill a pot full of tea with every vitamin
and make it boil
and serve it to every terrorist
even those that shelter him
and if I were a moralist
I would anoint every limb.
 
Fanatics are a civil-breed in great need
who dependent men gather for fun;
who beg them until they bleed,
yes, every single one, every daughter and son
and they probably go abroad
to do the things they are at,
but instead I love my cat
and not like that.
 
For we should love the human mind
as wisdom lead us to,
and those that don’t are probably blind
or somewhere behind
and cannot see either black or blue;
who probably eat and do not pay the bill
and listen to the restaurant’s proprietor shriek
and beg, rant and demand until
they pay the other week or he turn the cheek.
 
[Reference:  “Down With Fanatics!” By Roger Woddis.]