So ere he left he spoke his word of thanks,
evoked some tears (You know how mothers are),
and thought some more on what a couple tanks
might do if someone left the gate ajar.
He figured that would be the easy part.
He’d park a carrier just out of sight,
walk back to where his anger got its start,
swim under, pop the latch, and join the fight.
The next part would be somewhat difficult.
His tube would have a hill to climb across,
but it would only bear one young adult.
Its doctor would arrange a quick weight loss.
The rest of it? I think that had he known
what shortly you and I shall understand,
he probably would not have left the zone
whose lack of lawful life he lately planned.
Unburdened with a forecast of that sort,
he set out on his boomeranging trek.
His first stop was to be the metal fort,
or, if you will, the weird yet wondrous wreck.
Quick weight loss: I.e., the removal of, and presumed sacrifice of, its occupants. Ciral is, of course, even less concerned about their fate than that of his neighbors and relatives.
©2010 Louis A. Merrimac
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