I Will Have My Milk

I want to attack, I want to destroy, to push my fist
Through shattered glass like gloomy
Holden Caulfield, symbol of estrangement
Stranger than the rest. Let me loose on the battlefield:
No war? My aggression will pulp you, primp you up,
Then prick and pop you like a pimple. When we're done
Only your pus will remain. Raise the canon,
Standard and the method of attack, and fire into the masses
Of crazed, complicit zombies, carving up the flesh
Of devils, daemons, ghouls. I am the living, breathing pulse
Of this smog-choked world, my cry
Is central, not to be ignored -- like a child screaming,
Bursting his lungs with sweat and hot tears,
I will have my milk!