Tangerine wars have been waged
on this page of history,
And the man in the dark gray jacket is about
to turn the page,
and the new page is plastered with little boys.
Some grow lemons.
Some grow limes.
At the bottom of the page
the great Citrus Wars break out
like measles in a less half hearted century.
I am the virus that stalks through the trenches,
muting and murdering.
This war so tangy and pulped,
is only a mid day snack.