SundayI July

A Love Story:

Turning to Pol-Pot,
Who was seated to the right,
I said 'What happened to the love?'
He paused and though he didn't laugh it was as though I'd made a joke.
Or farted.
'All I did was for love'
Confused, I asked Hitler what he meant.
He declined to answer as his mouth was full of breast of dove.
He waved his hand batting the question on.
Stalin turned.
Stroked his steel moustache and said politely:
'People, power, politics, and personality: it's all about the love.'

At a bad people dinner party.
Table manners are a must.
The food and the wine must be just right.
The discussion of politics and religion is not encouraged.
It was a big dinner party.
Made up of lots of bad guests.
Bad people sat and ate their guts full of burnt livers and torn parts.
They drank the blood of a thousand men.
And for starters devoured the souls of children's hearts.

These men had changed the face of humanity.
Changed the way men viewed men.
But yet they ate and ate.