The end of symbolism comes:
not metaphor but actual
real-life, khaki-wearing boys
self-driven to hate.

Afraid to admit how good
they’ve got it, greedy lust
consumes them. They won’t
rest until blood is spilled.

Hate should be America’s
last resort, but it’s big business.
Fools fondling flags embody
the fake news they decry.

Spleening excretion,
they’re tools of the mega-rich
who sniff, avert eyes
belied above it all.

The literal now has come
and brazenly chants
the monotone of death –
one dimension under (their) god