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Day: September 21, 2020

Meddling Men

When meddlin’ man in nature plays,
  By and large it’s beast that pays;
And on occasion, beast extracts
  A modest price for such attacks.
So it was in Anchorage town;
  Man had come, a moose to down.
Hovering low within the sky
  Shot a beast upon its thigh.
Tranquilized, a moose will fall
  On the ground then men can crawl
All about its fallen shape,
  Tag its ear and at it gape.
This moose, he had another thought;
  The thought he thought, was not get caught.
Felt the needle sting his thigh
  And bellowed he, a moose-like cry.
Falling not, another tack -
  Remained on foot and aimed his rack
At the hovering chopper’s tail,
  Charging it with full force gale.
Hit the chopper’s tail prop.
  Damaged then, the chopper’d drop;
The moose had hit just where he’d aimed
  Though in the end, the moose was maimed.
On the ground, the chopper’s crew
  Escaped the crash to moose pursue.
Bleeding from the spinning blade
  From consciousness, the moose would fade.
The tranquilizers in him deep
  And wounded now, he fell asleep.
The chopper boys thought it’d be best
  To send him to his final rest.
Once at peace and running loose,
  They euthanized the mighty moose.
I hope the day the Martians come
   To their dart, these men succumb.
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