Bora born

Prime hard _


 
Sleek sleazy corporate dog, a bushel of
wheat slid under the door, paid in silver.
The death mask creases his face, pushing through
lips of fashion that slit to smell the air.

His corporate mouth in the back of his
head, leaves behind beady eyes, so narrow.
He kills you with your love, a righteous tone
to shape your mind in zenophobic fear.

Jackals tear at the carcass, the dying
state recoils, convulsing in hot black blood.
Nations cannibalise their brothers lot
the Genie unmasked as in days of old.

The statue in flames, liberty near lost
from the entrance to the new big apple.
The twins demolished, great evil expires
the terror cell under the ice white house.

Silent bleeder where has your courage gone
relive in our time your example of
power withheld, a dim reminder of how
you once shared your might, so slow to anger.

 

- O -
© feb 2006 _ Nhawrr yirrpa


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Prime hard _

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