Finally,
Our Department of Defense has always been
A midnight war kitchen,
a war factory, a war sweatshop,
a war-lovers Disneyland.
Picture animated psychotic peacocks covered with sashes and braids and stripes randomly fanning their tails
to a Tchaikovsky symphony.
Uniformity is the norm, like tapered jeans and Nikes in the outside world that needs defending.
In the courtyard are barbecues. There is a four star general making jokes about the Chinese while he fattens up on a bloody slab of meat.
(Its more like a smorgasbord of obscene offerings, an archetypal thanksgiving feast where someone forgot to invite the Indians.)
The mindset at the Department of Defense, now the Department of War, is all in the placeset, with the missile on the left
And always a nice fresh napkin to wipe the blood of your extra-rare steak off your bloodless lips.
The bloody knife on the right, always deceptively clean as a whistle,
next to the silver spoon of privilege..
Please pass the ammo.
