Jesus the God of War?

On the Saturday before Santa Semana,
The day before Palm Sunday,
We were out consuming.
We went to a Grand Temple of Mass Consumption.
A place with clothes.
A place with jewelry.
A place with shoes.
A place with TVs,CDs and DVDs.
A place with food.
A place with drink.
A place with batteries.
A place with pots and pans.

And of course Easter Baskets.
Easter baskets made of plastic.
Filled with green cellophane grass.
Stuffed with candy eggs.
Big ones.
Small ones.
Little chicks made of marshmallow.
Yellow ones and white ones.
In each basket there were toys.
Some had dolls and dresses.
Some had cars and trucks.
Some had farm animals.
Some had jungle animals.
Some had killer robots.
Some had plastice planes.
These planes were bombers.
These planes were fighters.
These planes were little plastic angels of destruction.

First the grandma gives the basket to the boy.
Then the boy rips it open.
Big smiles all around the room.
Then the boy eats the candy.
His blood starts pumping faster.
The sugar rush is in control.
Then the boy picks up the bombers and fighters.

Then he plays at bombing runs.
He makes the noise of airplanes flying.
He sings the song of the dropping bomb.
He sings the chorus of explosion.
He does not hear the cries.
He does not see the blood.
But he is happy.
The grandma is happy.
All is well...

Little plastic angels of destruction.
From the Grand Temple of Mass Consumption.