A Meeting of Esteemed Statesmen

Posted by Erik Moshe on Friday, January 18, 2013 Under: Rhymed Verses
There’s Doctor Octavian, President Markovich and Chancellor Agony
Three warlords sitting at a round table in Warsaw sharing some daiquiris
while their respective countries are dealing with unbearable casualties
Do they despair? Maybe casually, in their lairs, taking care of their majesties
Priority One: With piss-poor minorities flung, we’ll become lords of the sun
severed limbs as collateral for disorderly tongues, treating locals as scum
Dr. Octavian pipes in with a story of his own:
"You wouldn’t believe what happened the other day! I saw this little whore
A young villager who stepped on a thorn while sweeping the middle-courts
so I shouted from my window high in the tower with intense discourse:
“You got blood on my palace grounds? Alright, then let’s spill some more!”
These ungrateful, useless populations taking up space in our kingdoms
need to recognize the need for needless killings in the name of an emblem
Kill for flags, kill for peace, kill for pleasure, kill your niece -
Kill your boredom, kill a priest, kill the swordsmen with deceit
“My remorselessness is deep,” begins President Markovich, with cheek
You all remember the medical research phenomenon of Rwanda?
Red Cross must’ve been happy with all that blood, & organs in the streets
Death is a side effect of what must occur, so it’s not unfortunate to me
but it is unfortunate to me that we couldn’t become overlords of the regime
“Excellent assessment” interjects the steely man known as the Chancellor
known for comparing Pol Pot to a pot smoker and Hitler as an “amateur”
He wasn’t just merely sadistic in his management of public relations
“During Katrina I would’ve called FEMA, then stuffed the ruffians in waste bins,
All who oppose our godly status must be destroyed! We’re destined to loot,
and commit mass aggression from Western Peru to Budapest or Beirut
Child molesters dressed in professional suits, though the crimes are sublime
and the phrase “human rights” is a designated pile of fists that tried to uprise
Whatever humans are left, they should be polishing the hems of our boots
You see… genocide is good for the concrete jungle. It cleanses the roots.
Rule, defy and crucify any who dare backlash - euthanized at flagstaff
take away a nation’s right to carry weapons and utilize the backstab
The three laugh together, thoroughly enjoying this evening’s appointment
throwing scraps to beggars, but the pieces of food are secretly poisoned
Sick, abhorrent Idi Amin contortions, drinking the thickest portions
Envision the pillaged corpses, for sanitation purposes, poverty stricken orphans
Prisons afflicted with rigamortis and AIDS viruses, to fill the morgue lists
“And we always say…“ they all chime cheerfully, like fickle tourists
“It ain’t a crime against humanity if you never get convicted for it”

In : Rhymed Verses 



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