Little Arabella MillerDrove a yellow Caterpillar.And she drove it round and round,Razed her village to the ground.Arabella did her best,Her machine did all the rest. The surviving populationGround their dentures in frustration,Seeing what a sorry sight Was their village left and right.All said: "Arabella Miller,You're a nasty little killer." Arabella kept her coolAnd replied: "I guess… Yet who'llEver stop me? Up your matrix!You're a bunch of geriatrics –Second-rate you are, and third…"And she cutely flipped the bird. They converged upon the Mayor And requested him to slay her.The Lord Mayor got his gun,But 'twas easier said than done –Cat was knocked into reverseAnd the crowd had to disperse. Then up spoke the Brigadier:"Got a situation here –Judging by the damage done,We might need a bigger gun.My old friend, Admiral Bruiser,Is a Captain on a cruiser – H.M.S. 'The Friend Indeed' –Bet he has just what we need.I'll liaise with him a.s.a.p.,Put an end to all this crap.Teach the damsel some respect,Bruiser will, I should expect." In the meantime, Arabella Gave the creeps to every fella,As her yella mean machineCrept across the grass so green.Well before the crack of dawn,She had ruined every lawn. BOOOOM! The Admiral attacked…Thus begins the final actOf this most horrendous thrillerStarring Arabella Miller –The environment was sacked,Not a thing was left intact. Locals prone to contemplate The iniquity of fatePut the blame on Arabella,Urged the Admiral to shell her,Blow her up, dismember, waste her…(They themselves no longer chased her.) Yet she managed to escapeAnd she kept in perfect shape,Sheltered by her yellow armour –All the bombing couldn't harm her.She shoved dirt into the bay,Locked the ship and drove away. "I have done my very bestTo eradicate the pest,"Said the Admiral "But, cor,She looks tougher than before…My old friend, the Wing Commander,Might be just the man to land her. I will radio the chap To liaise with me a.s.a.p.And I bet my sailor's ass,We will terminate the lass."Wing Commander FrigidaireWasn't long in getting there. To avoid undue delay,He commenced bombing away,Hoping he'd manipulate herInto some resulting crater.Carpet bombing was – he'd claim –Best adapted to that aim. ('Twas a marvel to inspectIts precise, moon-like effect.)Arabella, nonetheless, Wasn't easy to impress.Neither did she lose her nerve –She would calmly dodge and swerve, With amazing intuition,Till there was no ammunitionLeft for valiant FrigidaireTo pursue his mission there…And she would have won the duel,Had she not run out of fuel… When the locals came to get her,She was waving her white sweater.They approached with utmost care,Eager fingers poised to tear…They ignored the waving token…Not a single word was spoken… None of them was apt to quit…"Now you've had it, little shit…,"Said a member of the crowd,Icily and not too loud –Further proof they were intent On a murderous event. Little Arabella MillerSensed their purpose was to kill her,Didn't wait for them to warn her –She kick-started her Husqvarna,And the locals, once again,Broke formation, cussed and ran…Humanitas, 2007
by Florin Bican (b. 1956)
