The Laughing Jackboot
Posted: Fri Nov 23, 2012 7:08 am
The Laughing Jackboot
© Stephen Whiteside 23.11.2012
The laughing jackboot doesn't sit
Upon a tree branch. Not a bit.
He doesn't flashingly swoop down
To strike a tiger or king brown.
He doesn't care if he is king.
He doesn't really even sing,
And yet he always finds a way
To meet his needs, at end of day.
The laughing jackboot doesn't care
To be half of a matching pair;
He's quite prepared to hunt alone,
And eat his tucker on his own.
His tongue is large. His heel is strong.
He needs no more to get along,
And snakes are wise that slide around
Him when he's stomping on the ground.
The laughing jackboot looks inert.
It doesn't look like it could hurt
A mozzie, bumblebee or fly.
It looks quite harmless. That is why
It eats so heartily each morning,
Pouncing with no hint of warning.
The pleasure never wanes or dulls
For jumping snakes to crush their skulls.
The laughing jackboot's heartless laugh
Denotes another epitaph
Of lizard, snake, or other beast
He's bashed or smashed to make a feast.
I don't like it much, but then,
When have my thoughts mattered? When?
Or, come to think of it, yours, too,
Don't really count a brass razoo.
The laughing jackboot has no quarrel,
And this story has no moral.
He lives to kill. He lives to eat.
Thus life's cycle is complete.
One day, also, he will die,
And snakes will eat him - well, they'll try.
My guess is, they'll spoil the meal
By gagging on his leather heel!
© Stephen Whiteside 23.11.2012
The laughing jackboot doesn't sit
Upon a tree branch. Not a bit.
He doesn't flashingly swoop down
To strike a tiger or king brown.
He doesn't care if he is king.
He doesn't really even sing,
And yet he always finds a way
To meet his needs, at end of day.
The laughing jackboot doesn't care
To be half of a matching pair;
He's quite prepared to hunt alone,
And eat his tucker on his own.
His tongue is large. His heel is strong.
He needs no more to get along,
And snakes are wise that slide around
Him when he's stomping on the ground.
The laughing jackboot looks inert.
It doesn't look like it could hurt
A mozzie, bumblebee or fly.
It looks quite harmless. That is why
It eats so heartily each morning,
Pouncing with no hint of warning.
The pleasure never wanes or dulls
For jumping snakes to crush their skulls.
The laughing jackboot's heartless laugh
Denotes another epitaph
Of lizard, snake, or other beast
He's bashed or smashed to make a feast.
I don't like it much, but then,
When have my thoughts mattered? When?
Or, come to think of it, yours, too,
Don't really count a brass razoo.
The laughing jackboot has no quarrel,
And this story has no moral.
He lives to kill. He lives to eat.
Thus life's cycle is complete.
One day, also, he will die,
And snakes will eat him - well, they'll try.
My guess is, they'll spoil the meal
By gagging on his leather heel!
who verbally attacked the French lass on the bus sprang into mind - the only thing missing from his demeanour was Jackboots and a Nazi uniform