rumbled greens tossed in the air
glittering in the light
returning down down down to-
a pool of mustard yellow

Adorned with square blocks of bread
a radish slice dangled over your head
onions dance around, prance
as dots of light green dots the darker shade-

as slices of chicken square dance, double-time
as a rumble, a tumble, greater than thunder crackling is heard-
alas!
a flash of metal striking faster than a cobra rears its ugly head, barrels in ouch!

<We have a lost several comrades: two greens, one chicken sliced, one mustard sauce, four lean radish slices>

We
We are in a war.