"The Postman of Westminster"

By Zydrunas Ficklepuff

He eats the corn

Without washing his calf.

The wind comes

And makes him cry.

This was not what

He had hoped for.  A

Dead emu, lost pennies,

And sandals made of cheese.

The ev'ning falls,

The wasps scream;

The man takes his gun

And seeks refuge.

He takes aim,

Careful to kill that

Good-for-nothing

Postman of Westminster.

The Postman sees

Only birds and bars,

Not kniving treehuggers.

Why should he care?

He's almost within range...

Two feet more!

Click, boom, thud.

The postman is dead.

Two roads diverged

In a yellow wood.

And I, I shot the postman.

Please don't cry for me.

Goodbye, Mr. Postman.