Vines
Vines all around your bones
voice to skull transmission blooming from a ratchet slack jawed skull eating a crack down the sidewalk from eastern downtown to the great westside implosion
there’s this mild howling from an orange and yellow glowing blue-eyed frog drinking from a discarded chrome crack pipe
skeletons humming from sprouting leaves from discarded curled ribcages mourning angel dusted rustbelt blues
radiation imprinted shadows on the walls and trees of rotting homes house the memories of analog mutants beating typewriter keys on the sidewalk
faint lettering conveying all that is holy in a jigsaw manner
vanishing from silken dreams
mere dirt
abysmal punches
blown away by an ice-cold breeze in a melting daze
the flames of Prometheus no longer dazzle
the destructive gain for profit
knowledge propheting mankind
floods
droughts
escalation
climate change
eco-cide
the climate is changing for the worst among over-population when people refuse to admit E is for extinction
“we can’t exactly say why nor completely change our way of life
most especially our thinking
we are programmed to win
have you slaving away just outside a sense of comfort
people out of jobs
without meaning
but to fuck,
shit, sleep
eat?
You want more?
What are you a socialist?
People at peace
we cannot have that
eating naked free lunches
most especially with freedom not defined by us”
this forgotten way of life is a map of dead roads and rotting inner-space
among emptiness and stardust bones
the planet breathes in peace
igniting a new species
intertribal reconnects
biospheric reunification
this poem is but a bleak shelter among great expectations and lofty ideals
but
perhaps
this
is
the
only
prayer
we got
amen
voice to skull transmission blooming from a ratchet slack jawed skull eating a crack down the sidewalk from eastern downtown to the great westside implosion
there’s this mild howling from an orange and yellow glowing blue-eyed frog drinking from a discarded chrome crack pipe
skeletons humming from sprouting leaves from discarded curled ribcages mourning angel dusted rustbelt blues
radiation imprinted shadows on the walls and trees of rotting homes house the memories of analog mutants beating typewriter keys on the sidewalk
faint lettering conveying all that is holy in a jigsaw manner
vanishing from silken dreams
mere dirt
abysmal punches
blown away by an ice-cold breeze in a melting daze
the flames of Prometheus no longer dazzle
the destructive gain for profit
knowledge propheting mankind
floods
droughts
escalation
climate change
eco-cide
the climate is changing for the worst among over-population when people refuse to admit E is for extinction
“we can’t exactly say why nor completely change our way of life
most especially our thinking
we are programmed to win
have you slaving away just outside a sense of comfort
people out of jobs
without meaning
but to fuck,
shit, sleep
eat?
You want more?
What are you a socialist?
People at peace
we cannot have that
eating naked free lunches
most especially with freedom not defined by us”
this forgotten way of life is a map of dead roads and rotting inner-space
among emptiness and stardust bones
the planet breathes in peace
igniting a new species
intertribal reconnects
biospheric reunification
this poem is but a bleak shelter among great expectations and lofty ideals
but
perhaps
this
is
the
only
prayer
we got
amen
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