There's something deeply satisfying
In decimating a piece of runaway tissue
With a healthy jet of ****.

I stand towering above it
As it clings stealthily to the ceramics
And
      cackle
                as
                   I
                     reduce
                                 it
                                    to
                                        mush.

It bleeds yellow.
I feel no remorse.

Perhaps that's why
If the world were ruled by women
There'd be less war.