a saw for the legs
a happy face under
helmets of pink and lace
camo.
we are the happy
and dutiful
soldiers
in our holy battles,
fearing
none but a
familiar enemy
who looks
strangely like
us.
"kill them,"
the worshipful master
said. "humiliate
the ones you've captured."
"torture, without mercy," until
they either admit the truth
or adapt to yours."
"da da dadaa... love one another.."
i sang.
-jim hill
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