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David Wallace | + Follow Poet |
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Pollution Solution

Motorbikes and barking dogs
are driving me to drink
With the endless din of traffic
I can no longer think

I’ll have a little nip of Gin
Perhaps a beer or two
or maybe close the window 
That might help me too

Perhaps I’ll take my rifle
With the telescopic sight
And find a building with a view
Where I can sit at night

Those random noisy neighbours
Would swiftly think again
If metal jacket bits of lead
were winging toward their brains

Another little whiskey then
To keep the cold at bay
And steady trigger finger
As the targets weave and sway

I did this once before you know
And they kept me for a year
Psychotic  Paranoia 
Induced by too much beer

I didn’t have the rifle then
just a catapult I'd bought
T’was after several nips of rum
Because I thought I aught

It’s gotten so much quieter here
I nailed it bang to rights
and down below looks pretty
With those small blue flashing lights

I think they’re waving up here
I can see them scurry round 
Behind their little armoured cars
They’re kneeling on the ground

I hear the whiz of bullets
But my vodka dulls the sound
Perhaps I’ll have a pop or two
At those insects five floors down

I’m feeling kinda sleepy now
I’m tired upon my feet
And those noisy thudding chopper blades
could ruin a good nights sleep

A small nightcap, a brandy tot
Should calm my trembling hand
And then I think I’ll take a shot
At that choppers rubber band

I expect I’ll get a little sleep
In Broadmoor’s padded rooms
And get out in a year or so
As recessions lay offs loom

So one more shot and then to sleep
I’ll go out like a light
So just before I take it
I’ll wish you all goodnight.

Copyright © David Wallace | Year Posted 2012

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