HEAT

Just another day In the now of our discontent we wade through a garden of weeds. We speak, even curse, at the sky as if it had ears. We the children of our own making. Imagination leads us as we fight for our 'insanity'! Inmates remain collected, collected in their own contradictions. In the cool temperaments of The Institution, they rake us into piles of burning leaves. They seek to dine on the ‘mad’ feast on a dinner of the masses. Having sodomized Mother Earth they gather the corrupt. Forces assemble iron bars in hand, forged in the heat of the moment. Just another day bodies destroyed without a thought. With no one left to draw upon the world is but a catastrophe waiting to happen. Still ruled by the elected and no leaders in site fear rules. What?, when the devil sees he is fighting his own demons. Where are the wings of gold, or at the very least The Meek? Armand Hamouth