I heard about the cheers, <br />onlookers chosen by <br />the kindly executioners, <br />who took great pleasure <br />in ripping off the head <br />of that big monster, <br />fed and raised by Uncle Sam. <br />He'd suffered from a plague, <br />a brief attack that changed <br />his endocrine endowment fund, <br />testosterone ran wild, its foam <br />engulfing all gray matter and <br />defiance reared its bearded head <br />to wander off into the world of dunes <br />where kingdoms can be built of sand. <br />With terror only visible inside <br />his cruel eyes, there was an air <br />of simple bravery, the shackles held <br />and fear was smelled by all, <br />the fear of predator and prey. <br />The family went mad, the uncle said <br />we must now bleed the bastards dry, <br />take on the valiant task of altruism, <br />to keep the people safe and well, <br />so all the rellies gathered with their charts, <br />long lists of weapons to be used, <br />at last, it was the stuff that builds <br />and nurtures an economy, a must <br />for a regime that sees itself as having been <br />appointed by the Gods to lead, <br />and to impose its generosity upon the world, <br />its goodness and a system fit for those <br />who would be welcomed in the fold, <br />whose contributions would be seen by all <br />to be the currency's democracy and peace, <br />it would be known henceforth to peasants and <br />to kings and Gods and devils all the same, <br />the great essence, also known as the Good Oil.<br /><br />Herbert Nehrlich<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/hidden-weapons/
