when pigs fly
bullets glide into
pigmented gullets.

Who thrashed about like polyrhythm to 
godly stomp music,
so to make it rain crimson
in the asphalt jungle?
Was it the boys in blue who
feel threatened by the
colored youth? or

was it us?
a clan of cannibals, 
who with plashy enthusiasm and
white-lensed goggles
devoured everything, and used the
dripping bones and scraps 
to justify our supper.

please disregard 
that path paved with entrails.
it was a necessary evil;
civilization, you see.

however,
if you disagree
you will be the next to feel searing
cobra spit branding your nape with 
our tribe’s name, 
bystander.