Friday, June 11, 2010

The Ballad of the Screeching Loon of Scarsdale

“Rat Poison!” He cried out at the top of his lungs.
But his cry was left unheard.
He climbed up the ladder, two or three rungs
Not a soul could belittle his words.

1 comment:

  1. Hi, i'm Pat, and I really enjoyed this piece by Farrell. The unheard lunacy rising into the heavens, becoming something saintly and above the words of others. Rat poison echoing in my ears.