i c

i see sadness wearing the face of women

caught between with and without makeup

never finding what makes up reality

between the layers of media
is the suspension of the spiders web,
the devil is a dancing spider wearing tight pants
bears his horns on gothic wrist bands
bleaches his face to hide from police and pretends it fashion
cuts his eyebrows to keep smooth
on the broad and wide path to destruction

the narrow path can not accomodate the media
cameras can not shoot in such low light
audio is obscured
and quite frankly, the animals here are so rural
they dont care for exposure.

the land is respected for the wealth and health it is,
and isnt judged for the money it could bring.

Money is an indicator of wealth,
but in me is wealth to indicate through money.

there is no system over us
if we unplug the wires from the backs of our heads
that run silent into couches
through the floor
and into the fuse box of the powerstation until the world is dry of oil,
until permafrost melts
and life ceases as we know it.

Women are now lesbians until proven innocent.

Birth is now a tragedy for so many parent-less.

Joy is being suppressed in a young girls tight fist
as she clutches her last pennies,
scraped together to indicate her need for bun and cheese and a Fressh Orange Juice.