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This was for creative writing class. We were doing an alphabet poem as an exercise, and I decided to go from Z to A.

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Zealous beaurocrats yearn for power,
xenophobia devouring them whole
Wary of vulture-like colleagues.

Ubiquitously terror sabotages rabidly,
quaffing the blood of the penurious.

Across the sea, obedient, nervous men listen keenly,
as rich politicians jabber about impending war with Iraq.

The Republican Party is habitually gearing to war,
their fallacies and non-existent evidence deal the cards.

Population will soon break and be abated,
mother's babies soon will be sent to die.
All for a cause that shouldn't be, Bush needs oil:
So what are we?