Her realtalk on the Intercept was gladness, people who just say what it is and not coat things or downplay are what keep me sane (ish). Also this poem:
Her realtalk on the Intercept was gladness, people who just say what it is and not coat things or downplay are what keep me sane (ish). Also this poem:
Shut up to market machines and botsy. Enuff preachin’ brand loyalty, love the idolatry, iconography; bend me, fuck me, tort me for selling floor opticals.
Plug me whole and flaccid to demarcate ownership, flagrant stock slips, bishops and rooks mate quick as merges. Bizness sickness creepin on me. Roil me, confound me and spit me out deftly daftly daffy bugsy. I’m insane within members rein. Harangued on triple loony supple supplanted war trades. Foolish freaks jockey for top spot frenzy. Spendthrift follies running endless politically. Run base in ground, rouse rabble to frenzy, exigency, entropy. Lack luck and luster then shock bombs towards Idiocracy.
Too soon and easy are the ways of madspeak, newspeak. Duck duck mccluck Donald Daffy friendlies.
The gravity of our situation is pulling us apart
No room for the struggle just hustle and thug art
These terms illogical but spread like a virus
Every infection antithetical to the societal progress
Predators eating at the core of the first world flesh
Mass market for my peoples that put the quo in status
Such rap about drugs and thug life
Thug and monster just synonymous
Masks and hoods we hackers Anonymous
Plenty of thieves and robbers but we call it capitalism
Money leads to power and influence another syllogism
How are you powerful when you’re powerless to the system
I know from Marley and Mandela what’s called mental prison
Every man seeking power looks at all with derision
Luxury an art form or porn
We work for the pleasure system
Fuck a free world we want cumming transactions
Fuck a buck for spotlight
We dancing for masters
Niggers in Paris miming for tourist
Black women a showcase for ass excitement
Make other women want the skinny genes look
Applaud the big girls with the creamy lather
Take black women and label it fetish
Soul sisters sold soul for fifteen minutes
Empowerment sounds nice but how slow is this
I hear the sucking wounds of political slugs in chest
We got promises spoken and repeated through mouth geysers
There is no lesser of evils just propaganda on either
We got a hawk with Hilary and a peacock with Trump
Chicken man Sanders hollering wise on the stump
Money laundering election covering the avian rhetoric
There’s just greed and motherfuckers and government subsidies
Parent corporations merging in European orgies
The mines owned by Coke
Kraft bought the schools and libraries
Taught Freakonomics by so-called visionaries
Stolen sight lock monsters covered in property
The intellectual rights taken from technical refugees
I pray for the future to be bright and loving
But all I see is the blinding light in the cave that speaks
We have a serious problem of hate going on. Maybe a lot of you don’t know, maybe the media portrays it one way, in a politically correct way, but Fundamentalist Americans hate us. Not just right wing politics. What is said behind those closed doors, those polite middle classers speaking of their muslim co-worker, vitriole abounds inside these homes and Neoamerican minds.
These are the Americans who have swayed so far from the ideals of those slave owning forefathers or have lived up to the hidden message of American exceptionalism and superiority and Manifest Destiny, depending on your viewpoint. They have cocooned themselves in hate years before the September 11th bombings that took not only those lives in the towers but also the lives of victims of fear, hate and paranoia. Sikhs who were beaten and killed in the street for looking “moslem,” browns of all stripes being stared at and suspected for the color of their skin; no Timothy McVeigh or Paul Bernardo treatment. The deathcamp for cutie scenario always plays its hand in the land of the free, home of the brave xenophobic. A land taken by force and settled by foreigners staring stone-faced into irony’s face. Tempting and teasing these paradoxes of freedom, free market, legal bindings, cronyism, war profiteering and the myth of meritocracy.
The Americans of potential and greatness, great aspirations and drive are relegated to low positions or assistive to high payed takers and shakers. The brilliant minds are shouted down by cacophonous tempers and shortsighted fear mongering. Scapegoats are the bread and butter, of demagogues, populists, zealots and conmen. The new Rome is gripping its throat with the smog of ignorance and expediency and obfuscating doublespeak. North America is marketed and marketing so the slogans and soundbites be the key, the repeated lies and mantras of insiders, the “real americans” slipping from twisted lips. What is their idea of Real Americans? Are they being so dishonest about their past and the gritty hard details of past heroes and working stiffs ignoring the good fight?
People often fight against change and new ideas. They stomp and kick at it like babes wanting their comfort and familiarity. Fight tooth and nail for the dream of what yesteryear was, what they think of themselves and this rosy perception of their nation. Those so unaware of what they support and prop up for this pride and patriotism as they call it. They are patriotic, others are dangerous. Displaying of confederate flags that do not actually represent the times and armies they think it does nor the great battle of those wanting status quo. It is no different now, status quo and keeping things the same in their minds is the obsession. As the social justice warriors take all and sundry to heart and believe regurgitating lines is the good fight, so too do the fervent patriots believe they are sons of the soil, the true fighting the false. They are bastions of what should be. The Right is right, the Left bereft.
Hail the man who dashes reason but speaks his mind. Yosemite Sam one minute and Tweety the next. Market the darling, sell the hate, grab your true believers till you need their pensions and property. The followers believe the radicals because they offer a negative hope. Rid the world of enemies and defend the fatherland so that you may be safe and no new enemies can harm you for you are chosen people; divine providence for the righteous. Deus Ex Machina before the elections please.
Muscato mosquito drinks the virus down the fleur de lune shining oh so brightly nightly. Disaster spills in desert bloom boom boom, freaka in Zika explosion worldwide.
vials so vile
birth of sickness
lab of accomplice
canary island conspire
caustic causes with failure medicare
more bullshit for the flower garden
These tactics and tricks trickle fluidly down the media hole filling bright eyes with dull, dark, skip a beat melodrama. Doom and gloom rife with the manipulation elation. Trigger happy pushniks send out the missives to the masses to cash in on frantics, fear, shock and awe the perpetual antics. Liven up stress tests, boil the blood, fuel the fire hate empire, fan flames of descent of man. Polemics, eugenics, deathly hallows aesthetics. Sunken cheek sexy Johhny Depp Jack Skelington reprieve. Back and forth with the beauty and fashion, the po’ folk get no traction silly dreams of reconstruction.
Adjunct rejects piece together peace and justice for all and sundry, wipe ass with legits and legal quandaries. Jiggle jiggle assy flesh for the camera sets, maker models and music icon made plastic for the Nikon. Use me use me, get Kurt to rape me. Lunchboxes out but the serial production lively. T-shirts, get your T-shirts here! Print a statement in mass produced inkstains, refrain, the dolla dolla we all ballas being told to jump. White men can’t jump they own the team. Jay-Z reppin American dream; black Republicans smother selves in money scent, rich little doggies sniff each other loverly, lick ass kiss ass fuck each other cronies.
Economy frenemy, banks be holding down interest for the consumer distress. Pinterest inflation and tag the downsize. Selfie me death on the dead rising, zombie hordes with the click click obsession, travel fine but no need lunching. Too much cats and bistro buns, too much repeat like politico rambling beatnik poets sampling, I got ya newsfeed open up the gullet let me jack in.
Upload the opinion and force feed the ideology. Tube overflow for the necro anorexic. Anthro apology anthro sick, show my love suck my afro dick. Fuck your nation or whatever you call it, sell it, settle and kill for it.
Shove in the info
overload the senses
flash the memory
redux the old lies
tell tell again for permanent scarring
we always warring
tribalism scoring boring
me so ignoring
no news daily no Trevor or Colbert
have no idea who’s out there
recap the lid blow stacks off chips
I reminisce and Timewarp trip
Fearful politicians acting fearless
Aurelius rising to the pulpit delirious
Syphilitic pragmatist losing coherence
Armed with men with guns and speeches
Parables of made up kids who salute the waving gun
Penny for a pie and Billy’s lost bike
Swoon for the golden years or raise a tax hike
Raise a holler for the squalor and the cost of living
Every candidate a martyr just waiting for the giving
Turkey days and Spam nights wanting
Crusades for croutons cup o soup fulfillment
Office romps and Mr. Noodle sick with air conditioning
Promises of pay grades and toner woes dismissed
Cubicle spectacle boxed in all sides symmetrical
Some shoot em up some burst ventricle
Depressed distressed cardiac arrest
Absentee paycheque smile with a donut
Dunkin days and lazy rest for the weary
The creeping grey basement with the cracks and crevices nestled in like Nestle bricks of kat kit arrangements. Monster madness slink under the stairs, the people no fear, no people nowhere. The man that wasn’t there forgets his place and his need, the scared little boy who so ran from he is now a woodsman in Amityville. Chop block chop locks, choppa heads off knocks. Ching ching chainsaw makes music for the hillbilly trio fiddlin and faddlin up the hills with eyes.
Military experiments dwell in the firmament, gunpowder and cocaine mixing with the elements. Red blooded hooligans medal of honour recipients. Bullet holed torsos walk with the dead again. Pitchforks and gunny men take arms and falling skin, rotting mouths look slack jawed like first cousin marryin. Blue skin and purple throbs hound the beasts of creeping fog.
In the still of the night creeps come and lay a fright, vampire neighbours chilling little tykes. Big bad mouths and fangs so sordid clench the necks of crunchy camp kids. Camp nowhere on the Lake Placid, the final call for Final Girls settling scores with kat kit smores.
Inshallah, titty bah, shaclack clack pointed and busted at jarheads gone soft and muggy. Green grey warmachine looking crusted and dusty covered in scars of battle. Don the holy mech warrior under thunder Gundam guise sans emo hair and brooding. Teens do battle these days under the flag under the gun. Lock stock shock tops shock troopers invading whole men, plundering town and tarry never a worry. Amendments be damned this is just for the sport of it. Pitiable people envisioned as deer on the season, collateral damage excuses and dirt naps. Pillow fights for tots turn to deathbed confessions, feathers waft among the plumage of blood trials and maze runners.
Aftermath confounding confusing but forgotten at the new news cycle, three years and new terrors and hurricanes for sweeps. Guns and ammo litter terrain as psychos train and brainwash foreign teens in chatrooms like some Catfish sting operation for the alter Allah. Bizarro world of martyrs and prophets saying things they didn’t say. The golden book spells hidden messages for the initiated and skewed minds of a degraded people made bloody and savage by zealous hypocrites lusting for control. So sayeth the man, the lord, the right hand of a suspicious following with lemming futures; walking dumbstruck into holes of fortune and off cliffs so readily. Brown blips turned skull white in the muddy remnants, calcium deposits for the future anthropologists turned apologists. Aussie drole dresden dolls chaffing at the insignificance.
Pecking order pillars make medley with thrillers. Tales of horror sucking up the reefer madness. Freak wharfs engulfing little compatriots dazed with the sediments, ride waves of ether and hallucinogens. Magic mushroom good enough for Alice, through the looking glass and into the dangerous. So hectic so serious, why so serious? Give the devil his due Jack on the ledger dancing in the pale moonlight. Tip top hat drop Freddie on the Ritz, preacher feature creature screecher ballroom blitz. Make way for the kings, make way for Ozymandias the king of kings, death destroyer death eater sicky sin sin sin. Shelley the poet, Shelley the horror creator basking in her own maker, toss and turn for the creature that famed her.
We tire of the crafted, we abominate our creation, we snicker at first drafts and harangue the editors. Free run through the living room, scissor up my paperwork so that none shall see it or breath the stench of failure wrapped so tenderly in those sharp pages. Gilded cadaverous but the readers avarice, stuck in the novel leave life lifeless. Another shell husked and shoulder flumped peering into pages wanting secrets of the soul and the hereafter from the master author. Livid with the flaws and manic with the liquid paper, tearing up pages of blathering drivel disaster the all in my head theatre.
You say you have the way, you are right in your actions and religious zeal. But you have a negative philosophy and you think you know people but you cast a wide net. You place so many people as so called “infidels” into your little boxes and compartmentalize the damage and hurt you inflict on their lives and their families. Connections and whole existences are broken and shattered by your groups’ hands, histories are being eradicated due to your human negation and this never ending crusade against vague enemies in the distance. You become what you espouse to hate and what your god dislikes and in your actions you create the same sensibilities and feelings in us. What others don’t realize is we all become our worst enemies, nobody dies a hero, you have turned us into terrorists looking at the bottom line and accepting this collateral damage and planetary destruction.
Each year brings more callousness and ramped up battlefronts, each season adds to the blood toll for the sake of the greater good, an end to evil that will never be. Everyone likes to say we should learn from history, wisdom wills out, but what do we learn and take into us with the big picture? We take revenge, we torture and kill for the ends justify the means, old wars turn into new causes turn into patriotic fervour, the eagle snatches the goat. Our more dire concerns relating to our world and survival are overshadowed by bullies and short-sighted men taking each others pawns in a worldwide game theory scenario. We know better, there is no winning there is only limited escapes and the least losses taken, but you do not take them, our government does not take them, we do, we take all the pain and suffering onto ourselves and battle with our bloodlust and anger.
Injustice is everywhere and none of us have real answers or solutions. We bathe in bitterness and writhe in our false promises and predation; there is no going back from murder, all the acted apologies and prayers, all the speeches about missions and duties is a pathetic excuse for moral degradation and primal reactions. War, politics and religion is the three-headed beast that claims to solve our problems while creating more and placing all of us on the sidelines into the fray, to defend our right to exist. You, our leaders, our fellow citizens, have rushed us headlong into arenas of distrust, paranoia, and constant fear. And for what? an idea! The ideas that populate you world, your twisted minds and fantasies, the idea that you and your ilk know better and know what our species must do. How we must act, dress, talk to each other. Who’s version of 1984 are we going to have? When is everyone’s life going to be their own? When will you leave us be and stop pretending you have answers?
There are no answers, only being, so just be.
You got people and organizations pointing out dire situations needing addressing in some cogent, solid fashion instead of rhetoric and grandstanding with obligatory promises and back patting. Then on another side people used to hazardous humans and multiple scares over the decades talk about it going to work out, Science will work it out, technology will save the day. There is some truth as I see it in this as we all adapt to new horizons and will have to make concessions and maybe ration our lifestyle to keep the ship from sinking. We need some institutionalized equilibrium, people cannot or will not back peddle and make due with less unless they have to. But who is to trust? Nothing is trustworthy anymore, skepticism is rampant and fairly necessary, cynicism is the new black. Media, politicians, charities, businesses, what is solid, what is reliable in an elastic globalized world?
There was always damage and issues, but I think we feel it more the more we get connected and the more is revealed by competent reporters. There’s just a massive onslaught of bad news bears and strife filling the airwaves and the collective conscious. Iraq and Afghanistan are, to put it lightly, still fucked, more overt moves being placed on Iran and the ever watchful eye on Russia and China coalesce to form a new axis of distrust. Greece everyone knows is fubared and no one forgives debts anymore. Syria and Egypt have some complicated dualism for their past leaders where factions are fracturing the countries into a pointless tug-of-war for dominance in an unsure future. All this pro Assad anti Assad no to imperialism and colonialism rigmarole is doing nothing for the citizens except creating more casualties to fill page 7 of the locals. The Arab Spring is a slinky unable to stop itself or steer direction.
China and Brazil have some instability that is gaining the worry of geoanalysts. Everyone went apeshit about the stock market and China’s fall from grace in a doomsday-like prediction talking about a redip into recession like we haven’t been living with that boondoggle’s aftermath all this time. Face it, there is no panacea to the Economy. The so called free market cannot be tampered with to make it go the way we want, people buy and spend and scrimp and save to their own beat, you can manipulate the consumer but they still make the decision for themselves in the end. All of us seem to have a struggle with industry and holding on to stable exports and having what the other half wants. If Brazil’s sugarcane isn’t enough with all they’re doing with it and their renewable energy sources are a glimmer in the market, what is their place in the global economy that is hungry for new hotness? Deforestation and constant construction aren’t compatible with sustainability or pragmatic politics. I feel like there’s going to be a coalition for the middling countries like BRICS but more inclusive, more attuned to the realities of a new global order brought on by the necessity of abolishing empires and merging fledgling economies.
Now those who say we’ll get through it all just don’t want to change their lifestyle and make sacrifices. Too much confidence in the human spirit without the acknowledgement of struggle. A lot like to think of the US as the vanguard of a new century replete with modern technologies and fast forward thinking. Lots of research but political meddling as well. Lots of money going to useless endeavours while nitpicking about deficits and renewables spending. The new norm is multiple sources having shares in each other’s backyards. Chinese and South Korean corporations invest in North America and the like while each business has shares in other countries’ industries. And who is accountable in all this? What do trade laws and international law dictate in these situations? Disaster happens and they all throw their hands up in the air and make excuses, no one’s culpable or responsible.
Principles and scruples are a dead notion disappearing into the sands of a forgotten desert. The world is held together by cutthroat pirates legalized by free trade negotiations and binding words on paper. The most powerful and harmful thing we have is contracts. Words to solidify the power dynamic. I own this, I patent that, human existence is measured in ownerships. There is no get along gang here, our leaders are too stupid or corrupt for that. The only thing that’ll work is DIY mentality, the commoners taking the power back and fixing a broken system meant to control the populace. We only solve our problems by coordinating and ending poverty and extolling and supporting education. Two main functions of ending inequality for everyone. And anyone considering themselves religious should be on board with this and shout it out loud. Conservatism and religious sentiment are not compatible. You can’t cut social spending and say you care about the welfare of others. You can’t bomb another country killing civilians and say you are moral. We are not good, we are a work in progress.
People are so busy fighting and thinking their side is right. These idiots like Boko Haram and ISIS ISIL IS, whatever they’re called, are corrupting our collective will and ruining the whisper of peace and justice. You take children as slaves and pretend you’re for the people. You bomb your own and demolish history for a god who only aligns himself with you and your struggle your bullshit trumped up delusional jihad. You obsess about Jews and Zionism and forget your countrymen and women and the proven workability of micro lending and grassroots campaigns, small business and opportunities for everyone regardless of ethnicity, sexual orientation or beliefs. What business is it of yours what people are and what they do? Why do you care where I stick my dick? You are not a prophet! You are not the hand of an invisible god who lives in your thoughts and concepts of the universe. No one has the right to abuse and dictate what others must do and act like. Nobody owns life. How is understanding such a difficult concept? Everyone thinks their right in the face of uncertainty. Who knows anyway?
Righteous vs. Devilish: The sin of man’s freedom
Hate hate hate. Vitriole, fire, envy, lust upon lust of the devouring skin animals. To be rid of the flesh, to arise a new mammal, animus, deity of infamy that takes rein of the fledgling centurion. Awaiting heaven’s gate with locke and key in hand. Eerie tales wrapping around cupped ears tom peeping at the mother’s door.
Secrets, lies, more stories of fleeting importance fluttering down the manifold staircases; can you catch a hold of it? No not I says the wandering piper that lies in the wake of the sickly spurious settlers. Villagers of defiant nature twiddling thumbs that wag of disapproval and tasteless condemnation. Oh, who are the saintly ones that measure up to glorified standards? Who be the ones who equal our divine wishes in an era of hedonist debauchery that lick and lash at moral fibres?
In this epoch, you, the one who hastens to lie and slander, are the only angel among the fornicating innumerous demons populating the higher strata. The age old battle replaying anon. Again and again the forks clash the spears, the tails and wings duel at let there be light arrival. What has time to do with victory? What has victory to do with the play of happiness ever ready for collection?
We the lesser know not what to do when the upper echelons fail us. When the over and above lose faith and face thus prohibiting our ascendance. No more of lost shams turned to shambles, the eternal play of the wicked versus the just that tickles at our ears in comical cartoon fashion. No more of dangling paradise like so much mistletoe. Reach out for salvation and unearthly satisfaction.
Whether tis fortune that we borrow a heart to fulfill the saintly duty or suffer at the hands of spiteful failure. It is to writ that we endeavor to make amends of our wistful tattered souls.
Predator is the New Black
Lecherous old men salivating over young bodices.
Index of sexual arousals and all the right curves.
Parabolas of physical allure making the temptation complete.
Hounds of hooting and panting demeanour lapping up sensuous coquettish vibes.
The fairer sex tending to themselves, putting up with drooling animalia eyeing every move, bend and curve.
Must tolerate and endeavour the leers and howls of nearby wolves tearing at innocence and gnashing away at the wounded fawns.
White knights dwindling in the era of the gentlemen turned jackal.
Sniffing out weakness of the desperate searchers looking for the sword and shield.
Peers are utter disappointment, no hope for simpering Hydes.
All the pompous peacocks looking for the gilded prize.
Triple seven for the jackpot, copulation always on the mind.
Chivalry is antiquated, just a blot in history books.
Morality on a sliding scale, forked demons out to play in the guise of Dorian Gray.
Tasting everything and nothing, never lasting indulgences.
Never enough for the jackals, baring teeth at rising desires when the curvy lasses pass on by.
Philosophy of Might: Battle of the Pointless
Cyclical dementia at the button of warheads.
Battered and beaten fish sticks made of refugee kids.
Rolled up and spun cotton candy collateral damage.
Follies and foils of fighting mismanaged.
Manage; the chaos flux of post-war wrap up, do your duty then leave a megaton of shit.
The killing fields that makes it real, slabs of bodies making vista horror shows.
Macabre merry-go-rounds standing still, rooted cadavers soon to be plucked.
Heroes and purple hearts flourishing in the aftermath, forget the stiffs that sacrificed.
Golden rule on dead ears, vicarious generals and politicians throwing jeers, living on borrowed time from the general infantry.
Makers and shakers signing away death sentences with flicks of the wrist and wry smiles on their lips.
These nefarious plans coming to fruition and who but the next gen must pay for them.
Sinking in revenge for something they didn’t do, undone by slighted youth in revolt.
The brainwashed bystanders viewing unearthly destruction, sights burned into memory never to be cleaned.
Scars so deep, psyche cracks on the way turning sour on ripe youth.
Counterclock oranges babbling vendettas of uprooted hate. Longstanding quarrels coming out of the dingy cave.
Never forget on bitter tongues soaking in curses and violent verses.
Who told them of righteous revenge? Who taught them of vile retaliation?
The pedantic pedagogues of sickly warmongering, tongue-lashing serpents with scales of golden hue.
They say they know the secret word from their tainted point of view.
The book of promises turns to ashen debt.
New kids on the bazaar must pay their blood dues.
No chance for a life, soldiers of misfortune, call of duty desert babes.
If you think about it words are the most powerful tool we humans have at our disposal. Words are necessary, words are important. The words “I’m sorry” said in a certain way can mean a lot of difference to someone in need feeling down in that dump we all find ourselves in one way or another, suffocating stench drowning out reason. People like to cling to weapons in that primal, lizard brain me me protect me type of thinking but it doesn’t really stop anything. The guns don’t stop wars they only prolong suffering and loss. If weapons were the equalizer then the most powerful nation would be on top and you wouldn’t have war and these continuous squabbles but we do have them, we have war and infighting between cultures in the great divide, guerrilla fighters and rebels in Syria, Yemen, Nigeria, all desirous power-grabbers yearning for the top against the bottom.
The military-industrial complex is a reality and multifaceted to say the least. War profiteering unleashes a torrent of antagonism weaving its way through a peace-seeking society losing face daily. We turn our heads towards the day and squint at the burning light that giveth and taketh. What choices do we have? This freedom that comes from capitalistic democracy is wearing thin and promises are heading back east it would seem. They shovel shit in our backyards and charge for the cleanup. Are we free? Are we enabled and ennobled by just rights to bust shackles of mild oppression and coercive governance? I hear leaders speak of the wants of the citizens, they speak for us in parliaments and camera feeds designating power struggles as the will of the people while we are willing grace. We are burdened by the nonaction of politics. We are served by warlords of many names; we are the distaste on their vengeful tongues lapping away at still waters to rise the tide. Enemies made and remade in endless conflicts to churn the wheels of the money market, guns and ammo make good money and no one is done gambling on futures. Violence is sickening, war is quickening, death and plague is the reckoning. The religious cower at four horsemen but turn blind at the sight of ponies multiplying. This is my rifle this is my gun.
We have come to a point where complications and complexities are rampant and infecting different modes and models of existence. Intersectionality, civil wars with unclear agendas and parties, shuffled and discursive terrorism and torture tactics. What is up, what is down? Holding any one opinion now is erroneous, any viewpoint is folly and someone will correct you based on their information and the information itself is scattered and varied. It’s an overload and then dis and misinformation is tallied into the mix. People getting paid to spread lies and half truths, commenting on boards and forums pretending to be citizens morally obligated to inform the masses of the virtues of the great and wise leader, the reasonable policies, regulations, laws in escrow. How to parcel out this hub of words and numbers. Who is there to trust, what is trust anymore in a mad mad world boiling over? Media lie, heroes die, stuck in a hustle with thieving magpies. I have no hope for a sentient voice to rise from the crowd, to instigate that dream in the rally for sanity. Bickering is the old new norm and simple solutions are passed for sanctions and punishment. The old eye for an eye stick to your gut approach has wrapped its tendrils around our people and made mountain moles and rat kings. Maybe when the hawks die out they won’t be replaced by the new breed. Maybe I’m wrong, this could be the pangs of liberation and “democracy.” Through darkness there is change.