peckish, threatened by the end of imagination,
we watch a timer, watch the sun, watch waves vaporize.
one scientist (the size of a football) provided new weapons and the course to new eloquent silences.
indefensible but not really surprising.
time to put the stake into our second hand, speak our fatigue.
an immense irony protects us from our hopeless obsolesence
but our children’s children are as gullible as the rest,
and the rest of the rest is dejected, heartbroken.
war is just another kind of war.
territories, gods, and histories—we’re not prepared to die.
our foe is wind, water, the terrible wrath of a grown up grown tired.
the brokers broke a promise. forget it. have tea. try to remember a dream, a kiss, a magic change:
the girl that turned into a frog and flew away.
a big bird that eats an alligator.
jam squeezed from dangling plants.
time was up. there was blood but no vein.
a billboard on the lovesick road showed a lying millionaire,
ketchup scurried in reverse,
fragile airy homes, wrecked.
the dream is older than sanctions.
war is just a kind of war.
a reservoir, a dam, a deli representing the government,
absurd but meaning no disrespect.
emotional and congealed, we draw curious battle lines.
remember: aid grows in circles.
what’s left but to rejoice in big books, in irrigation, why we built and what we do.
some years ago nobody’s fight captured everyone's imagination.
it’s the very nature of democracy.
every institution feigns to take fish hugely seriously.
when asked, fish answer unambiguously, speaking for the people of the valley (fish valley, specifically). it’s a blunted argument, the bits bob away.
but what it amounts to is this: we’re a callous nomadic people held ransom for a microphone.
ellievsbear
tangentwithtanner
titsay
areudirty
blakekathryn
snowghoul
dailybridgerton
theartofmadeline
baratheonpilled
izzy806
