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civil collapse

Twist my arm and break my back,

let the salt and the brine Float into my senses

and the broken particulate spread into my toes.

Dig that oily mass into my flesh and deteriorate my cells

dissolve my ether

ooh

let the howl of your generators flush over the break of waves

and drill into my eardrums the winds of my mountain.

I just want your purple, smoky blues without

the greys and the sheen of oils on my skins

spread over my feathers

drowning me in my own element.

You're fire, metal

warped transitions of nature flexing your synthetic muscles in my face.

Sorry, bro, I'm just not into that.

Turn around,

take your auto-clogged

smelted bull to the sun and

incinerate yourself

I'm tired of your leering, thirsty eyes.

I'll give you water till you drown but

you'll still drink you greedy whale.

at least whales know how to keep the balance.

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Written by
christopher-ranieri
American
Published
Feb 24, 2014
Lines·Words
23·154
Permission

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