Let the respectable men take
their places and let the rest
of us look on until something more
interesting,
nudges us along.
It's when they open their dry
and polished lips
and talk of death and fire
like common household
cleaners or minor league
sports results,
that I wish we could demand
they step out on the sand
with nets and tridents or just
plain knives
and let the pulsing spray
decide who lives
and dies.
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