Served my purpose on a platter,
Fine dined on overconsumption,
Created a new vision of peace.

Peace in eternal tides of the moon,
Waxing and waning with each death,
Polarized the warning into lies,
Molars getting pulled with love.

Handed the knife to the dead,
Make of them a name to sing,
To careen into this fascist affair.


I love you,
                   Puny Peasant.

From Yours Truly,
                                The State.