We’re shooting Gazans, that’s our goal
It’s target practice, not a game
Take aim and fire and…Whack-a-Mole!
There, over by the water hole
Hey some we kill and some we maim
We’re shooting Gazans, that’s our goal
Like skinny fishes in a shoal
All move as one and look the same
Take aim and fire and…Whack-a-Mole!
A few grains in an empty bowl
Is that for what these mothers came?
We’re shooting Gazans, that’s our goal
She’s running, that won’t save her soul
In vain, and shouting Allah’s name
Take aim and fire and…Whack-a-Mole!
We’re IDF, that’s how we roll
For Israel, and Bibi’s fame
We’re shooting Gazans, that’s our goal
Take aim and fire and…Whack-a-Mole!
© Gail Foster 27th June 2025
Psychopathy
Kittens
*
I’ve never even touched a man, she said
And now I’m old most likely never will
I’ve never really understood the thrill
Or felt the need to take a man to bed
Perhaps it was the way that I was bred
But just the thought of kissing makes me ill
I may have missed a trick, perhaps, but still
I’ve read, and had my animals instead
A man had loved her once, he came to call
With chocolates, and roses, pink and red
She didn’t like the smell of him at all
And hit him with an axe till he was dead
And put him with the kittens, by the wall
Beside the baby birds, behind the shed
*
© Gail Foster 28th February 2017
gailfromdevizes 