I miss when men used to go to war

I miss when men used to go to war.

I miss when men used to commit cruelty to their brothers.

I miss when men used to have a fire of anger in their eyes as they ripped apart and were ripped apart.

I miss when men would place their palms on the two sides of a head, wrapping their fingers over the forehead and ripping a skull in two, silencing the scream and exposing the tender jelly which is the center of all human experience.

I miss when men used to crush the bones of their foes between their hands, and trample the bones of the innocent beneath their feet.

I miss when men used to snarl like dogs as they ate the flesh of their brother, chewing the sinew and quaffing the blood.

I miss when the violence and blood rained plentifully and drenched our hair and clothes, and how in those times when I could truly find man who was as cruel as I deserved.