Hiss Off! : A Sonnet

Rows of tomatoes planted on hillsides
remind me now of the boy who threw snakes.
He made the cats howl, he riled up the drakes
and spooked the old nag that took me for rides.
He made it a sport; he tormented me
by tossing a snake headfirst at my face
and shoving one in my collar of lace,
making me scream when it tried to get free.

This cruel vicious boy who inflicted pain
his treatment of creatures was inhumane.
It was always my wish for that pervert
that he could feel how much it hurt and
that just one snake he pulled from its lair
would be a constrictor and him ensnare.


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