Size Ten
I hurled my shoe
At George W,
And there is nothing he could do
About it.
I showed him, slam dunk,
How liberty was drunk,
Clobbering the hunk
In a size ten fit.
My shoe it was that put to shame
An empire’s shenanigans;
All its fat, all its fame
Went fending at the shins.
My shoe, it spoke for the million dead,
And more millions starved and maimed;
Like David’s sling, my size ten said,
“Go Goliath, thou art tamed.”
A shoe, it is a wondrously
Effective instrument;
No cruise, no cluster can ever better
Its masterly intent.
It burns no cities,
It breaks no bones,
It simply ruins the soul;
It actually pities
In ground-zero tones
The subject of its goal.
Go, George, go,
Enough of your surge,
Your tattered Wall-Street calls you;
Having brought woe
To the world at large,
Go save the land that mauls you.
We of Mesopotamian breed
Lived long before your kind;
We surely lost our beans for a while,
You go and we shall find.
– Badri Raina.
Peace and Justice Post 
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