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Feb 2014
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.
Christopher Ranieri
Written by
Christopher Ranieri  NC
(NC)   
505
   mld, mybarefootdrive and Mary
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