by Alan Britt
From the caves of Lascaux
to a Lantana Beach, Florida-room,
fat flies cling to salty gingham curtains.
Opaque claws from a feral priest
or the governor of a slave state
overseeing plantations, herding cotton angels
with lightning breasts of 13, 14 or 15 years.
The chimneys of southern mansions
coughing pestilence, helicopter insects
migrating corner to corporate corner
according to the magic pipe.
Discipline……..rape of culture,
homogenization of one solitary human
to another.
Evolution as it stands today
gives me a fucking headache.
Tomorrow, dementia, that arcane disease,
sometimes known as monetary transfiguration
(from the 70 ruling families to you and me)
but otherwise known as he who has possession
of the bomb.
Follow the bomb,
& you’ll find the money.
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