Death Penalty (Game Misconduct) Poem by Michael Fischer

Overcast skies,
north winds gusting;
Death in the air,
the town gathers.

Rich man's disease enchains the king
to his rattrap flushless toilet
(but he calls it a throne) .

The guillotine,
hanging above their necks,
plays the role of their God,
as it decides each of their fates.
But it only knows one judgment:
Death!

(The guillotine comes down on them)

The beheaded can see their peers
celebrating without an end.
Their faces,
pale by comparison,
quickly turn Turkey red,
while their reckless bodies,
run in circles.

The gatherers scream in horror!
Rivers of blood douse the dirt path,
filling in the wayside furrows.
Thirteen seconds;
thirty-two steps.
As their scrambling bodies fall down,
the gatherers white lips grow numb.

Those who witnessed each of their deaths
have to live with the memories.
I call that the death penalty!