I Stand For World Peace Poem by John W. McEwers

Eat you fist in freckled socks,
it screams a threat hollow and small
but grand for curled fingers
and polyester.

One fist down,
now chew the other right to the nub.
The knot
the stone
of wrist bone
boney white and bleached
with a stubborn sun
yearning to teach
you a lesson
in cooking
wild game.

How are you going to fight now?
With compliments
With hopes
and with world peace.

I stand for world peace.