Flesh Country Coup

(a real old one, 2.30-3am)

I am the unjust ruler of myself
there are no corruptions going on in here
that i don't have a hand in
Not since i had a hole cut
to fit my arm
anyway.
I've been ordering this flesh-country to war
with people and nations never met,
-Sent out the propaganda,
calmly ignored foreign relations.

Somewhere, in vaults deep underground,
are vile weapons, hidden.
products of the politics of mistrust,
of previous threats to the Ever-Important,
National Security.
A beautiful person once suggested revolution
with these creations
but the moral hardliners are peaceful
and government policy
currently does not allow
for wickedness.
Only inside the borders,
where it won't be reported
to the outside world.

I am the unjust ruler of myself
a place where thirst rains from the sky in the day,
where at night the cold streets are searching
and none but wolves
wander the hills west of town.
if this were a democracy
i could perhaps step down,
give someone else a chance at command
But the best that can be hoped for now
is a coup that's quick and painless
before i leave this sickning oligarchy,
to rot, happily,
in the ground.

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