the wings of vengeful lust

we stab something. we kill other things. in the surrounding fields, we hold each other and chant and make trash can fires near the public bathrooms. we juggle soccer balls and drink the blood of our dead brothers out of gatorade water bottles. we will stab any player, on the other side of the field, and feel okay about it. we will make a knife out of a ball pump, and stick it through the eye of an opposing goalie. after the game, we will sacrifice anything young and full of innocence, so that our own power will grow, and fear will permeate and blanket our fords and hondas and nothing will stop us. We will go get beers after the game, and drink bud light from the goats-head chalice of chili's, and dedicate our lives to vengeful lust and plates of boneless buffalo wings or potato skins, both of which are under ten dollars and represent, to us all, murder and sexual pride.

blessed today are the blue eyes of the once living. play the local lotto in their honor.