To cleave poetic with a gleaming sword:
This is the ideal.
A clean cut with skilled hands,
Circulation banned,
Toppled limbs.
Headless monuments litter a triumphant city,
A careless obliteration of past heroes.
Time ushers new sensibilities,
Into toddlers’ playpens,
Who build and stack so many blocks,
Wondering about new discovery.
Pudgy fingers rub the hilt,
Swing with rapture,
Destroy with art.
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