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Cell Warfare

Felix Dennis
April 12, 2004
Mandalay, Mustique
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You killed my friend—
And now, you little piece of shit, you die!
There are no borders left, no swamp in which to lie
To breed or blend:
Your soul-sick nemesis knows where you lie.

And we shall search—
And find, and leave no mutant stone unturned,
There are no borders now, no bridge to leave unburned
Where ravens perch
To croak their ‘nevermore’.  For we have learned,

And we have planned—
And now, you squalid piece of filth, beware!
There are no borders here, no refuge and no lair,
No no-man’s land
For you and your disciples of despair.

Where evil thrives—
Then we shall root it out lest it give birth;
There are no borders— men of every stripe and worth,
If death survives,
Shall join to hunt your messengers to earth.

Reading this aloud to friends a few times, I was asked if I was referring to terrorist cells or body cells carrying AIDs or chemical instructions for the ageing process.  My answer is: ’Whichever you wish.’