Gangrenous men! 

Can you behold your

Rot hubristic?

The other

The other

The other

Always another’s

Impingement on your pristine dreams.

It’s him!

It’s them!

Quake your sharpened digits,

Vilify,

Degrade, or worse,

Impugn the veracity of

Suffering Other.

Oh, you

Know.

Your Truths are self-evident.

They stand erected,

Towers monumental, they distract the gaze.

Look not at their phantasmal foundations:

Lie pylons.

Gangrenous men!

Foment fear.

Dangle desire,

Use all shiny levers,

And when in doubt,

Attack -

Ad hominem the hominid, wretched.

Define right and with that,

Rule.

Abhor reflection.

Where have all the mirrors gone?

Smash them or better:

Commotion captivates.

Dance false targets 

before the exhausted and bemused.

Let’s dim the lights.

Quiet reflection might illuminate.

There is no greater purpose.

There is no sacrosanct aspiration. 

There is no meaning, above.

There is only this below it all...

Fear of the fiction:

two children

one toy 

and a gun.

Ah, but Gangrenous Men, 

Where have you gone?

Become the gun?

Clever trick.

Click.