Cannibalism for theCannibals, Liberalism for the Liberals

You can’t tell me now what I may eat.

Don’t attempt to lay down the law.

It’s my culture to dine on human meat.

What is freedom for,

If not to allow the oppressed and poor

To live as they choose? What conceit.

But surely your ways are worth dying for?

You can’t tell me now what I may eat,

I wish to roast liberal pig, it’s tender, sweet, 

I’m surprised you’ve not tasted it before,

Given your penchant for novelty, you’d find it a treat.

Don’t attempt to lay down the law,

Just because it’s your flesh, my maw,

I have an ancient family receipt,

I was going to cook the girl next door,

It’s my culture to dine on human meat,

But liberals give of themselves whole, complete,

Poached kid sticks in the craw,

Liberal slips down freely, leaving me replete.

What is freedom for? 

I prefer brutality, which I keep in store,

With onions, spices, stock which I’ll reheat. 

Diversity is strength, mine. No time to jaw,

I know you approve from all that you Tweet.

You can’t tell me now.