Safari - a poem by Rajiv Lather
Rich man hunting talent zero,
plans safari to satisfy his ego.
Guns bought guides hired,
ineptitude vies with money.
He uses deodorized soaps
and wears designer clothes.
Should he spray Cologne?
Logic vies with vanity.
Please be quiet warns the guide
but gases play deep inside.
He lets go fetid and loud,
smell vies with sound seeking prey.
Prey runs alarmed by sound,
excited he fires but forgets,
gun points the other way around.
Bullet vies with guide’s curse seeking him.
Copyright © Rajiv Lather 2002