Saturday, August 11, 2007

Near Miss In Bari

The sniper on the thirteenth floor
Cocked his rifle one time more.
He glanced up at the ticking clock
And lined up the apartment block
That lay across the busy street
In Bari’s deep and sticky heat.

The target on the eleventh floor
Looked around from wall to door
And shook the beaming landlord’s hand,
And said, “It’s just what I had planned.”
Seeing the silhouetted figure,
The sniper slowly squeezed the trigger.

The target however did not flinch.
The bullet missed him by an inch.
Through the flimsy wall with force
It carried on its downward course.
Three miles further on it struck
The tyre of a pick-up truck.

Where’s the link between the three?
The man with his new tenancy,
The sniper who was out of luck,
The driver of the pick-up truck.
Within a minute it happened that
All three people got a flat.

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