Ah, the morning dew--how it glistens green on a can on the fridge shelf. How it signifies a broken gasket, an inefficiency of energy, lost in freon mist through the night. How it bubbles at the wide mouth when popped-- cracked--open. How it fizzes in the gullet and slides seamlessly down the esophagus. How it settles coolly yet warm in a pouch of stomach acids to make super-acid-dew-stew. How it commingles with blood and spreads its influence to the brain. How it twists perception, how it clouds errything yellow-green. How it makes hatred for the lower class. How it stays with us through our youth. Oh, morning dew, you are my cruel lover.

Mister Death

--Poems by Willum