Tags
Australian poet, Crimean Tatar, Dialogue, islam, limerick, Limerick poem, Limerick poetry, poem, poetry, Steak Tartare, Suicide bombers
The Devil’s in the Detail
Steak Tartare
The son of a Crimean Tatar,
He stuck dynamite in his garter,
And when it went boom!
It plastered the room
With raw minced up meat of a martyr.
An Honest Dialogue
One: You come from afar, what are your intentions?
The Other: To bring you down from within.
One: Why?
The Other: You are evil. You are an unbeliever.
One: Why am I evil?
The Other: You don’t believe, therefore you are evil.
One: But you clearly intend doing me harm. What if I don’t let you in?
The Other: That would be an evil act.
One: You intend to bring me down — isn’t that evil?
The Other: I am righteous.
One: The place you came from, afar, — were we there, were our roles reversed,
Would you let me in?
The Other: No, for you are evil.
One: But here, you use my goodwill against me?
The Other: Yes, for you are weak and naive.
One: So my weakness forces me, against my better judgement, to let you in?
The Other: You have not the courage to do what you should do — I despise you.
One: You would despise me less if I didn’t let you in?
The Other: Yes, but you would still be my sworn enemy — you are evil.
One: We must agree to disagree on that point.
The Other: I do not agree with the devil. I have told you why I am here — what will you do?
One: I will let you in! You more than qualify! — Hell is the first door on the left.
— D.N. O’Brien
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