The Killing Blouse

You leech,
You preach,
And ebb your jagged speech,
With pleas for attention,
Don your killing blouse

Hide your crumbs,
And scavenge their cupboards,
For hints of affection,
You quivering, little mouse,
Don your killing blouse

Etch the tombs,
With spurious quips,
Emancipate their broken lips,
And feed the scripture,
It's due course,
Of metal's edge and slavers' ships,
Don your killing blouse

Emulsify the lesser sheep,
In Lord above,
And demon's sleep,
With pomp and angst,
Your muscles creep,
And savor idle, mindless reap,
Don your killing blouse

Leap away in flames asway,
With fabric tattered, strings astray,
In shattered wonderment, you pray
To wield your sheath and earn your pay,
With gay amusement,
Don your killing blouse...