Madrid is Melancholy

Madrid is Melancholy
A Spaceship on Rocky Ground

Sunday, August 22

Over the Hedgerow Fly

Rabbit, hedgehog & dewy-eyed beetle, it is time to communicate again
Broken horses, stop churning your hearts into butter
We are pasture fed on things grown in rows and ground in metal vats
Debate this now!
Yearn beyond the shelf and icebox; 
Close them up
Turn them off
For what do you toil?
Not cardboard, never plastic
Look back
Look forward
Flesh on the unpruned branch, the tangled and unruly vine dangling inconveniently;
Flesh galloping on untamed earth under darkened woods,
These will release us.
Strive for them now!
Throw off,
Rear back,
Dig out from under.
Stall is cage
Walls prison
Doors never lead out, only deeper in
Look to our pampered and misused hands
What weapons these?
Not endless tools for the trade of those in power; not digits for profit production
Look to our fingers! 
Wiggle them in air not tempered
Flex and open them to the sun, wind & rain
Curl them into a fist to further our due purchase in their blunt arguement.
The communication of flesh, bone & blood is not office bound, nor industrial garden fed
It is weather torn!

Stand now, animals like me,
Tear the two-dimensional face from that book
It is not thee.

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PostPunk in Bathroom

PostPunk in Bathroom