Against an enemy, not a loved one?


To get revenge on your bitterest foes,
Would you use a voodoo spell?
What nasty things would you want to do,
To curse them really well?

Would you make them sick and sore,
For months and months of time?
And bloat them - fat and fat some more! -
And give them pains all down their spine?
Would all around them gush and cheer,
``You must be oh so pleased!'' -
And for them somehow just not to hear,
Cries of ``No, leave me, please!'' ?

Could you perhaps, forbid them working,
With your designer voodoo charm?
You could say that work-place lurking,
Could do them awful harm!
(This could work even better still,
If your foes are rather poor,
Then wouldn't that just be a bitter pill,
To have the paycheck come no more!)
And what about some swinging moods,
Have them hate the morning's pain!
And have them want some strange rare foods,
Could sleep be a tiring strain?

And when they think you're almost done,
How would you get them next?
That's when the fun has really begun,
Stage Two of the voodoo hex!
Would you make the pain just so intense,
That words can't express the thought,
And make the brain lose all defence,
At this angstful, angstful .... ?

So with what would you curse your foes,
If you felt the most burning hate?
There is not much worse, I must suppose,
Than nine months of such a fate.

Greg Baker 21.4.93



Enjoyed this? Buy a copy of When Medusa Went on Chatroulette for more poems of nuclear physics, time travel, devops and other nerd-geek topics.