Shifts

Earth’s here quaking, while I’ve been thinking of shifts. Like the shift in love, the shift in economy: the dollar-fat trolls who play tricks. The many wounded and the sick. I see a haze of gray smoke, it seems I’ve been hiding in my dreams, waiting for the moment to pretend my words will mean a damn. It’s melting away, they’re going extinct, forever isn’t eternity. We need the land, the oil, the soil, the spoil, the life, the ecosystem means nothing in the short run... Grab your gun, your knife, you pride, your flag, wave them to one another: you’re American. And when the ocean comes ashore forevermore, let the beauty somehow survive the fittest.