
Is this phase 2 of Bar-room bully


The Web Sniper
Sitting by the window, hardware assembled
Contemplating a target, his sweaty fingers trembled
Horehound bitter and citrus sour
Anticipating a victorious hour.
Like a swamp reptile of old
Recording habits of its prey
Watches, waits, blood running cold
Smouldering cigarette in the ashtray
Never had a fruitful life
Never had a real friend
Sad offspring of a fishwife
Twisted heart cannot mend.
A much preferred Uzi
Would help bag a bigger cat
But now he has to make do
With a keyboard, mouse and mat.
Hunting cyber-space for sport
Is how he gets his jollys
Pay him no attention
He's just a web-site folly
He'll mess about with your mind
And try to wrench your heart
Utterances of this kind
Have the intelligence of a fart
But do not underestimate
The potential here for strife
For his nasty little strategy
Can disrupt an unwary life
Hidden in his firing room
Lost in a world apart
This cyber-space sniper
Takes aim with his mousy dart.
Firing the optic fibre line
His ammo seeks its mark
Recoil of the digital carbine
He's shooting in the dark.
(c) J.W. 2004
This is not deliberate sexist verse. The he could as easily be a she.

Regards, Witty Owl.