The Gates of the Moon are ajar today as we sweep open the dreamset
To do the best that we should with the real one called Jeffrey Dalmer
Who should have been a Saint for all the men and women he ate
Which solves the problem of over-population
But it does not solve the taste
Of it all and the taste of the Pig
Isn’t going to be a Fresh Meat-type of shugal but a New.
This new word for the taste of men called shugal which means
Without taste of salt nor sugar just pork.
It is a know in the armoury of servant men who ask not for the real one
But only for the Real Nun, who is the one who gets to see that it is all
The means to an End and not a Meal in and of its own Right.
To get hungry is to get unfilled with the Real Spirit of Man which stops
Us eating each other or doffing the broth as they called it in the Old Days.
The each one of us that does the ain’t of it and that is opens the throne to the
Catcher’s in the Rye so to speak, the envious and not have you
Shall be able to get rid of their Pride without much aspersion
From the latter such as they do.
Copyright 2016 Bruce E Saunders