O! These depraved days of doom rocking the skies, the armies
Of sinister things toward death
To the fetid drums of war.
O! To our horror these damned devil dogs to their howling
Near the gaping mouths
And unwarranted, decomposed applause
Within the pulse of torturous, whirling dread.
Goddamned horror of their pasty mouthed infection
Riddling the mind, dulling the senses, stoking the fear of fear.
This! This! This is what we want? Tormented reason? Souls
Whose only judgments are bloody goddamned vengeance?
Rooting downward we’re filling our mouths with reeking sewage.
In these audiences are the people of this land. O! The children
Will soon look to them for truth,
Seek them out for sound council,
Shaping their ovation, bent, unripe and swilling from hell’s cup.
© 2007 mrp/thepoetryman