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the last movementArcane rumblings bellow out from the infrastructure.The secrets swell out from the wealthy infidels the final bursting of their pregnant whispers.Now the wise old casualties know all of whats to come, so they pack their sacks with their old guns to fortify their army of one.Benevolence skips the billions of ignorant families condemning daughters and sons to an army of none.The first bullets abandon their barrels kicking off, disregarding poise eager to make some Godawful noise.The welcoming blasts: a metallic symphonyQuickly booming into cacophony
i know what its not ...its not a picture or a memorya laic or chaste soliloquy.you cheapen it with wordsits a homesick sadness but its not nostalgiayou cant give ittake ityou cant make itchange it.Its thick in your throatbut you cant taste it like hateyou cant swallow it like prideyou cant vomit it like valentines spit it like enamours.you cant nail it like fleshyou wont understand it better if you hang it on wood.its not a song; a melodyrhetoric, rhyme, or rhapsodyits fascination; enthralment; amazement; infatuationwith the wheezy queezeof that dire impulse to
beyond the state borderI pull my jacket collar up as the wind picks up and up and up.the barn walls rattle, and the threshold battles the rain that plunges in torrentsand I listen to the choppy AM radio currents: they tell me I need to leave my land, take my wife and children by the hands and lead them south. they tell me if I'm beyond the state border I'm already a dead man.my teeth chatter where I stand.I hear the hail like drops of shale upon my roof of straw and nails.cookies are bakingmy chi
lego AlcatrazYou turned away from the world long ago to build your lego Alcatraz.and spent your time watching reflections in the water, building sand castles to represent every dream you had. derived from what pieces of flesh wash up on your sands.every bridge they built you burnt.every interloper they sent you hurt.but you kept feeding the sea serpents ... now what did the surgeon general say about feeding the sea serpents?but now its time to open the pearly gates and see what fairy tale awaitsthe worst that can happenis youll return to your island.
cold catchred nostril ribs poke throughcloth takes skin dead or aliveliquid bubbling out at a constant rhythm that is not quite faucet's spit irrigating sleeves crystalizing to make the next load a painful swipe.barking blobs of virus cues sympathy and soup.
omnipotentI love you.see: self-sacrificeI hate you.see: self-sacrifice