I saw Man, the man-hater, Hunting with a torch in one hand, And a kerosene can in the other, Hunting with guns, ropes, shackles. I listened And the high cry rang. The high cry of Man, the man-hunter: We'll get you yet, -- you -- Son of a Bitch! I listened later, The high cry rang: Kill him! Kill him! -- the Judean equivalent -- the Son of a Bitch! In the morning the sun saw Two butts of something, a smoking rump, And a warning in charred wood: Well, we got him, the -- Son of a Bitch. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE IDEA by AGNES MARY F. ROBINSON LITTLE BILLEE by WILLIAM MAKEPEACE THACKERAY THE THREE BEST THING: 1. WORK by HENRY VAN DYKE SONNETS OF MANHOOD: 49. THE ENGLISH RACE by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) A WEATHER PROPHET by JANE BARLOW THE BRIDES' TRAGEDY: ACT 2, SCENE 1 by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES THE LOVE SONNETS OF PROTEUS: 49. FAREWELL TO JULIET (11) by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |