Order Of Death With Pork Fried Rice. To Go Please...
    Derived from poison pen letters
    The message castrates logic
    Impinging on truth
    Sought out by naked tribesmen
    Armed with porcupine quills
    Using rape for intimidation
    They circle the moon on water
    In mindless hordes and unaware
    The party is creased and steamed
    In uniforms colored in hatred
    Flaunting their limp tribal penis
    As they flagellate unfounded fears
    Into flat cakes of hatred
    Baking in the ovens of oblivion
    To cover land mine dreams in earnest
    Their petty wheat shrapnel loafs
    Taking the legs off of consolation
    As a child warrior cleans his weapon
    Deftly breaking down the AK
    As easily as playing with Legos
    Awaiting the next bitter chocolate bar
    As reward for death carried out
    Like food from a Chinese restaurant
    That after one hour fails to satisfy
    He craves dealing death once again
    Unsated

    House special noodles
    Egg roll with plum sauce
    Child soldier in pork fried rice
    And 2 baked Char Su Bows
    To go...please