Hors d'oeuvres

back off man
i've got a toothpick
and I know how to use it
back off man
while my eyes
dance back and forth
and in my hand
wooden splinter
a twig, a matchstick
none of those things
but a toothpick
ready to strike out
and strike down
all those who cross the line
those little helpless souls
with their lives on silver platters
unsuspecting, unknowing
and gone, without a chance to escape