Pantoum One: As a last resort we'll fix the plumbing.

Dear Mister Minister of the Ministry of Defence
As a last resort we'll fix the plumbing.
Oh! The hum drum of tied shoe laces and national conquest,
it's just not getting me hot and bothered like it used to.

"As a last resort we'll fix the plumbing"
a military man called upon the doorstep.
It's just not getting me hot and bothered like it used to,
thinking of those long legs, explosions ringing in ears.

A military man called upon the doorstep.
He held out a note.
"Thinking of those long legs," explosions ringing in ears.
A death drum sounds from a radio in the kitchen.

He held out a note.
=We're open for business folks, God Bless!=
A death drum sounds from a radio in the kitchen
We will fight them on the beaches, fill our pockets full of sand.

We're open for business folks, God Bless
Dear Mister Minister of the Ministry of Defence
We will fight them on the beaches, fill our pockets full of sand,
Oh! The Hum Drum of Tied Shoe Laces and National Conquest!


No I told you before, only as a very, very last resort. Good day.

Over

The children have been assigned the task of measuring the depths of several objects. I personally find this appalling. A shovel to the head in order to achieve mathematical competence.
As my child raises it's hand and exclaims it's knowledge of a depth's boundaries,
you create a blindside to its place in rhetoric, it's esoteric expanse over volumes and volumes of mass.
As you wield intellect over a crass class of questioning,
you bludgeon perception to perfection over
and over.
Whether that water is one cup or four does not matter.
It does not matter if it is a litre or a hundred,
as you fill and fill that cup because it will not be full
until
there is no wrong answer
because the question has expanded.
There is depth in children.
I am Over,

depth.