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The BagPipes!
By: C. McGuire

Bagpipes what oddity you are,
with your awkward daddy-long-legs body,
Are you sure you're not just a dirty wee beastie,
some a hybrid Hexapod musical entity...?

You are a large intestinal track perhaps, a bladder
some great stomach lining, a bowel, a Cows udder...
You bleat the scream of a dozen drowning Cats
A riot of screeches from a crèche run amok
by hundreds of tiny Hitlers as the fire alarms squawks...

Your drone and whine were first brought into being
to terrify the enemy from afar, but now they pipe
you to keep the folkish tradition alive; and
like tending to a long unused lilo, desperately
they keep pumping hot air into you...

Perhaps you are just desperate to die,
old now, out of place, out of tune
with an oldmans wheeze, but the hands
of eager musicians will not hear of it,
they keep breath from fading...

You want to stop but they will not hear of it
And you continue to chant, down Buchanan street,
but people do not stop to hear, to listen:
They saunter by, on occasion, empty out their pockets
to encourage the piper to keep blowing
till he's red in the face deaf in both sockets.

O, let me go! O, let me go!
Let the young reclaim the streets
with their Monstrous Techno!

Article Source: http://journal.ilovephilosophy.com

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