What arrogance,
what Godzilla cold-bloodedness
must gargantuan ego be saddled with –
imp rodeo-goading with blood-sprayed spurs
gibbering criminal odium
till lightbulb bl-bl-blinks, sizzlezzzz,
then shorts:
rows should be hoed with murderous strokes,
cobbled roads lined with tortured folk
for agonized screams make Vlads feel... potent.
That frenzied squirt must stir the loins,
reward with ejaculate-bullets;
strafing it seems eases copious those laughably, inadequate,
wholesale wasting frustration, negates –
simpler perhaps than finding a mate?
What misalignment of receptors, what lies
spun early,
convinces a man that He
has the right to assassinate
in the name of Divinity,
in the name of DNA,
in the name of salacious, unholy dictates,
in the name of some inglorious feud,
He, only He must disseminate man
hood –
ahhh, MANhood, so unjustly named
for no true Man butchers, indiscriminately –
in the name
of all things misunderstood
you divorce humanity when you deny another theirs.
