unfit (for g.w.b.)

these subtle shutting eyes, doorknobs turning and open your hearts now (one world wish away) a slow thoughts undrunk demon haunts your house
three thousand bodies beneath his bed
a grin like madcap thumb-twiddler
so much---

but oh, your word is above question
says the demon to the crowd
and they swallow him like prom night girls
in parked cars do, did, have, will
(of which you have none)
a crawling spider across the belly of the earth
(no offense to spiders intended.)

but pile on pile on pile on your stacks
your warchest made of souls, cold hard cash
and lay to sleep at night knowing you are the one who eats the futures of children.

but hey, without you how will we ever know what it's like to drop the bomb, killing millions?

2004-09-05 | 2:41 p.m.
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