Polishing My Trebuchet

The wood:

Perfect

The design:

Sub-par

I've constructed this contraption

to hurl junk at the neighbors,

"Gee, whatcha got there? Is that

a trebuchet?"

I stare with a glare of hate

"Mind your business"

 

 

I launch used diapers,

I don't have any babies so these

are diapers filled with my own foulness,

Next up is roadkill

and might I say I've done the city

a service in collecting these expired critters

and if you catch them early before rigamortis 

you can better position the bodies for flight,

They look dashing in air,

Last but not least

used tires

they crash through the house

and damn near kill the poor bastards

 

cue the sirens,

cue the mexico,

cue the bean burrito my cell mate

has offered at the tail end of my sentence,

 

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