Woman's Work

Mother Earth is due for her hysterectomy. Soon she will lap dance in a crystal-clear sterility far from her blood-soaked fields. She is done with nurturing, done with death and destruction. She gave her all, but that was then, now the soil is blistering for want of her winnowing, her threshing. Her attention is upon herself alone. There is a place a lit-up stardust dive where all fertility deities eventually arrive - there they gyrate and twerk for those who, quite by chance, have dug their way out of their own graves, yet even they must pass away, as she strips down to her last scant garments then yowls with glee knowing she is free.