I’ll soon leave this planet, it’s cancer, they say; a life-sucking maggot that won’t go away.
A monster of monsters, no mercy it shows; and never stops gorging till your final throes.
Now, I’ve fought in beer parlours, and wild whiskey docks; I’ve fought for a woman, and fought with the clocks.
But I ne’er fought a foe the equal to this -except for the tax man’s cold parasite kiss. These two kissin’ cousins are swine with bad breath. They feast on your essence till you die to death! Now, I’ve only two wishes before I am maxed: That’s the tax man gets cancer, and cancer gets taxed! With extreme prejudice, Brian ‘Whiskey’ Kimola August, 2012
EDITOR’S NOTE: While managing editor Jackie Carmichael is on vacation until May 15, contact Westerly News writer Andrew Bailey for your needs in editorial at email@example.com or 250-726-7029.
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