Mere Anarchy ~ Friday, June 13, 2025

Terrible ideas occur as I dream
how to choose one child over another
each time I fall asleep, I must decide

better to roll over, play dead than scream
each dream creates the conditions for harm
situations arise, choose this brother
to care for the other brother, his bride

left out of the picture like a machine
a computer responds to an alarm
computers help to run the government
kindness is whimsical, now here, now there

aggressive forces play a role, hell-bent
liquidation of persons as a bear
likes to sniff a body to determine

carnality, worthiness as a food
order the troops to enforce martial law
nobody outside after sunlight drifts
visually from the horizon, the good
inside their dwellings, shelter, hide away
calls to halt by police meet with the claw
transportation necessary in shifts
information from radio broadcasts
over electromagnetic waves say
nothing but to stay indoors and to sleep

weep not openly for missing or dead
humanity is best served cold, to peep
in haste, while dark outside, beside the bed
lift the window for fresh air, nothing lasts
each day, the generals decide on tactics

troubles at the border, within each town
hones intelligence, a Damascus blade
each town must govern within didactics

workers know their place and slave for their pay
organize revolts so their ships go down
remember good government goes unpaid
still the people wonder about the war
the skies become sooty, blue turns to gray

Angels on high observe the world below
royalty engage in diplomacy
enter the fray at higher levels, show

friendly neighbors, acritochromacy
under these conditions settles the score
life goes on, survivors survive, to watch
liquidation, culling the herd, the blind

observe nothing but hear the screams outside
forgetfulness comes with silence, a match

purchased to strike any surface and light
as to burn the corpses, scents come to mind
smells worse than rank fecal waste must abide
silence is key to forget and forgive
indeed the crimson book reminds us, fight
over the urge to discuss the misdeeds
no one you know took part in during years
as military soldiers, for though weeds
trimmed or removed present beauty, their fears
exact retribution, they must not live

indeed, if the messiah should return
no one would recognize them in a look
turn the corner, pass the teacher, a sword
elegant in design with blue flames burn
nothing but empty souls lost on the pitch
seek not what is outside the crimson book
in turn, your actions keep you above board
to sail through the whole nine yards, not a stitch
yellowed with age, though your ass may still itch