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Wednesday, May 11, 2011

Red Earth

What ichor flows through these plastic veins?
Yellow putrescence  mocking dreary rituals of life
A bilious thread of bubbling rot
Corrupting the vital web of community
 Its strands quivering silently, then suddenly alight in damning flame
 Plastic paradise erupting in terrible, jubilant sacrifice
The many-limbed and mindless mob cheering its own bloody baptism
These figurines of folly
Their bulwarks naught but ashes
Of a better, kinder age.


Benchmark said...

Why is it that young Scotty is full of gleeful bloodlust, but old Scotty is looking away in disgust and horror?

Earl J. Woods said...

Someone has to walk away from Omelas.