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Friday, August 29, 2008

My Magic Gun

Kate Slater, a lady we have come to admire and are getting to know through this website, sent the following poem to me this week, saying "here's a poem for your mother."

I hope that Kate was inspired by the song my mom recently wrote called "Taser Me Baby."

Thank you, Kate - you are an inspiration to both of us too!

My Magic Gun
Kate Slater

I'll tase you till you're down and twitch
So my partner can handcuff you.
No, I'll tase you till you produce your hands
And a jolt so you'll stand up too.
I'll tase you till I figure out
Just what I want you to do.

Don't say you won't, my magic gun
Won't never ever ever harm you.
Don't say you can't, you'll take the ride
It's your fault if it hurts you.

Hey, I let them tase me right in the back.
I yelled and I fell over too.
I did what was expected, not scared and not mad,
So why don't you do that too?
I'll hold down the trigger till you do.

The docs say if you're delirious
the magic gun might not stop you.
The docs say if you're delirious
to fire quicker and a lot to save you.
The docs say if you're delirious,
it just might damage you.
Which of the docs is telling the truth?
And what's a policeman to do?

I'll trust my trainer, he says that it's fine
And he trusts his trainer and so on up high.
They all pass on the latest information
And no one has a reason to lie.
And no one had a reason to die.

If you think, if you think, that you're scared it will hurt
You'll say "Don't tase me bro!"
If you think, if you think, that you're scared it will kill
You'll raise you hands and go.
So thanks to all the folks who up and die,
As long as we can claim it ain't so.

If I think, if I think, it won't do any harm
I'll blow cartridges at thirty bucks a pop.
And if you suffer from "unanticipated death"
Well, it's your fault anyway, because --you--
weren't right in the head, didn't comply with orders, did all that coke,
had a bad heart, or were black or white or red or human,
or leaking scary sweat, or you wanted to die, or you had a stapler,
or you swore at me, --or you had a bad day--
or I did.

Cause I didn't intend to kill you.
It's a non-lethal weapon, they say. And non-lethal means
it's a weapon used by men who don't intend to kill.
If it did, it was your fault that you died in hell.
And if I had thought that it would kill you, --well-- . . .

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