George Bush was a pig, a wild bore who used his sharpened tusks to gore the gardens of the innocents, to attack those who meant him no harm, to suck the blooded oils from their bodies as on his rampage he waged.
And in my dream, Dick Cheney was a vulture-- a cowardly bird who feasts on the remains of the dead, those killed by wild bores and those who dare to stand up to the bores of the world. "Kill the boars," Cheney called, "and I will eat them too! Rotting flesh is rotting flesh and I lust for rotting flesh. The carrion of the wicked is just as sweet as the fecund stench of the meek."
But then, in the midst of my dream it came to me, I am not asleep, the beasts are real and the nightmare lives in everyone.
