Tyranny!

Tyranny and to this land oppression if come to will be in this land, the guise of a foreign enemy fighting.

Nothing is greater than this.

The slippery webbing on the damp tube moths speak of
revolution and euphoric nubs

That bug of an idea sinks through the jello mold and
stands firm within those guys

They stand firm and march out slowly to the rhythm of
war drums played by uncoordinated children

Urine stained sheets and pigs on a stroll
All the kids running out to see what's up, so they can play