Pitchforks and Smartphones


…thorns and moldy crumbs in economic slums…

War drum sums run guns for gas and golden arches

Dissident marches mulch along deserted highways of April’s fool

Along this stretch of road where logos rule

logos prophorikos  “the uttered word”

logos endiathetos “the word remaining within”

Internal eyes

miss internal lies

until we internalize

the narcotics highs of lies so low

Can you hear the crow pecking at the decking of the second Titanic ?

Born to an age of rage, the grand stage of a digital panic

Craving something organic and paying through our teeth for it’s shadows

Thieves running gallows from comfortable thrones

While we’re hanging on the lines of dead dial tones

Pitchforks and Smartphones

Ancestral bones groan, screaming stone stories from a grave

History’s sown slaves, and the plantation master

Too many examples to trample when it ends in disaster


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