Territorial Pissings

Partakers of the Sunday meal,
what we call the Sabbath,
herd their children from SUV's
into the carefully planned dining area
To shield them
from mild forms of maddness

For what does innocence
have in common with the damned?
What does hard work have to do with being drunk all the time?
What does prosperity have in common with being lost?

Nothing darling, nothing at all...
Now put on your coat and gloves,
We are going outside.