We are happy steel turned
into cookie dough.   Rockets
melt down into greasy taffy. 
The world decides to eat candy
rather than destroy each other.
Now we can concentrate
on playing Monopoly, paste
each other’s faces to Baltic
Avenue instead of buying hotels.
We pay each other air money,
which is invisible, a threat
to no one’s shaky finances.
Suspending each other over
lava pools and razor blade pits,
we don’t fear we’ll drop
our friends, because sugars
in the sweets will grab them.
They’ve learned to speak,
are great humanitarians,
even to cowboys who tie them
into fruit loops and licorice lassos.
One day we fear jellybeans
might become bullets again,
crème filled will puff themselves
full of anger, lollypops will
jump from the mouths to run
into jeeps, tanks, and jets,
be chomped by the enemy’s teeth,
shattering into glossy pieces
so someone else has to pick up
burning orange and sticky red.

Cutting Off a Head

Start with
the body.
Stuff it with
Big Macs.