A Final Confrontation

My life's epitomized by strife,

While the wolf prowls round my door—

And I think it really is a drag

To be so cursed poor.

One day I took a butcher knife

To confront this nemesis full face.

I skewered him quite deftly,

And thought I'd won the case.

But then, next day, I woke to see,

To my sorrow and regret …

That his brothers, aunts and uncles

All around my door were set.

So I've ordered a machine gun

From an army surplus store—

There'll be nothing lupine left

But bone … and fur … and gore.

The Web Projects of Sondra Ball and Mario Cavallini