The Curmudgeon

YOU'LL COME FOR THE CURSES. YOU'LL STAY FOR THE MUDGEONRY.

Wednesday, September 02, 2009

Malediction

When the shaman gave forth with the ancestors' wrath,
The tribe would cleave fast to the virtuous path.
When the prophets of Israel sang out their curse,
All Ahabs and Jezebels feared for the worse.
But the scourges of kings in the reasoning age
Could not sign their names to their work's title page;
And, since every heart is ripped publicly now,
Our fierce indignation is drowned in the row.

The artist who strives to give bad people hell
Will find that the bad bear up marvellous well;
Indeed, there are few under moral assault
Who don't draw the lesson: "Thy neighbour's at fault!"
With words etched in acid the rogues are accused;
They drink them in, belch and are mildly amused.
But once to the full of this circle we've raced,
May the sentence be sharp, may the Word lay them waste.

Futcher Gringleet

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