by Paweł Grajnert
Someone’s conserving all this
Something wrong,
Indiana.
Not just Indiana being
off course.
The sirens’
Testing
The readiness for war
Or worship.
Disasters!
There, between the rows
Scoured, planted,
Set,
Sealed,
Lacquered is
Not just Indiana again,
not for most.
But for the few.
Subdued by religion,
of the empire.
Either side of the train
Whistles, just beyond the hum
of the Interstate,
- Over here,
Some power lines. -
The crow’s
caws.
A murder.
Giving, giving,
gone.
Oh, illustrious one!
Oh, Diana!
Enlighten Mars!
- In broken Latin
If need be. -
For despite all his simplicities
The demands of progress
At any cost…
Especially by force…
It’s all for some vulture.
Tell him! Tell every him!
Tell the enabler
Of every him!
Your efforts are all
for some vulture.
A vulture. Not an eagle.
Not even a crow.
Let alone the raven.
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