the dictator with his pet baboon

while i'm reading by lamp light

about our futuristic tools

a dictator is having his lunch

but he's angry at those he rules

for mixing fresh lettuce with day old bread

and now he wants the kitchen staff dead.

they know the way out the back door

but it's blocked by an alligator

who tells them to come back later

when all should be well.

they grow impatient because they recognize the smell

of their own fear:

nothing is as it seems to appear.

so out a side window they jump

hoping to ditch the dreary dump

before their lives completely diminish and erode,

using a moral compass to find the higher road,

leaving the dictator alone with his pet baboon,

hungry and howling at the waning moon.

he's still angry at those he rules

but momentarily content 

as he strokes his family jewels.