deepundergroundpoetry.com
jerry can aronist
just
imagine
the horror show
strolling
through the forest
jerry can in hand
at one
with mother nature
whisperimg trees
singing birds
a sweet soundtrack
to the walking dead
heavy with life
no more
contemplation
the time is NOW
or it will
never be
kneel quietly
in a
sun spat clearing
soaked in petrol
lighter in hand
waiting to ignite
last rebellion
could be
prosecuted
for being
an arsonist
FUCK IT
you can
arrest and charge
my charred remains
drag my burnt carcas
for all to see
but it won't matter
was NEVER seen
when alive
at lesast
my last
carbon footprint
will be counted
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