The lingo is polite as varnish,

Sincere as the wax-faced undertaker saying, “We are sorry about your loss.”

And after the notes are exchanged, and high respects transmitted like wires on Mothers Day,

WAR COMES!

And where megalove was a flood of sparkling waters,

Megadeath is the tide run out, and stinking mud, and carrion, and rotting hulks,

And the bones of lovers, and the curled fists of quite dead infants.

“Megalove” from the book “Overkill and Megalove” (1963)