Dig in. It’s dangerous territory here:
You’ve seen them – on the highway, in the airport. You’ve seen them at the capitol. Their feet are swift to bloodshed and never a step on the road to peace. No willingness. No admission. No confession. Don’t speak. Fifty days until… Ten days more… The sound of angels and trumpet warnings as nuclear submarines are deployed and the people in control stop listening. Foolish, inflammatory people will watch us die.
A voice declares: all flesh is grass. Capitalistic parasites are the shadow of things to come. See it: systemic torture, sabotage and destabilization. Everything is overwhelmed and hopeless. Broken windows and graffitied walls. The body ends. The flower fades. It was always chaos; they were never in control.
I am fatigued flesh
– bleeding.
I am dust and empty
space – waiting.
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