I Kill Lost Boys

Once when I was drunk on River Street
I met a man.
In his hand he had a knife
Blunted through use.
His rope burned hands
Like sandpaper
His beard
Each follicle thick as a straight pin.
He looked at me
And I wondered why
And he offered me a glass
And winked at me
And he said,
"I kill Lost Boys.
Because they need to be killed.
I slice them down from the mainsails
And watch them fall far to the floor.
I kill them to watch
The blood flow
Into the ocean.
I make them food for the fish
That are my dinner.
I strike them dead
On the clock's fatal tick
And drive their faces
Into the hard ground.
I kill Lost Boys.
Because it needs to be done.
Don't misunderstand.
Their fates are sealed
And my hands are tied.
Do not misunderstand me, boy-
I do this for their sake
And for the world's.
And the cutlass
Dipped in blood
Is the only way.
I kill Lost Boys.
I kill them to make them men
The minutes before they die."