for
our journey
are narrowing/
capitalism
has
become
a super storm
a deep drought
an arctic quarry
an ocean drowning nations
a war of narco-utopians
Indians
have become
Indians
again
following the gravitational fields of their soul
alongside
ghost buffalo bringing back the humans
aztec dancers joining the swirling galaxies
disappeared women chanting away the desert graves
The transition has become forlorn
no socialist, communist, anarchist realm
awaits on the other side of the barricades or the borders
Your body
has become
the most feared weapon
the only organism capable of self-destruction
destroying the habitat of our ancestors' womb
or restoring our place in the geo-cosmic formation of planters | gatherers
The capitalist realm
The one percent of the one percent
The country of those
who take
the fat of the unborn
have broken the circle,
their circle with humanity
No space ship
No virtual reality
No acid trips
No latter day saints
can transport them out of this christian mess
They crucify the new Jesus on drones
They bomb the new Mohammed at weddings
They grovel at the lungs of our last new Buddhists breath
The holy story has never referred to us the immigrant-indian landless shadow
The holy story is emptiness, erasing our names with zeros, ones and police guns
Nobody understands that our story is in the soil
Nobody realizes that our voices roar, hum and weave the rivers and ocean waves
Nobody who is white or gullible of their shadows understands.
There is no industrial solution
There is no socialist revolution
There is no European pagan sun
Einstein's theorems
Marx's das kapital
My grandmother's plants and prayers
are no match for this problem born in 1492...
The revolution is to be human:
Leave the natural world alone
Turn off
Tune in
Go off-line?
Only the wind, the dust, the waters, the moon, the sun, our smiles are wireless
The rest is either a fiction or a faction of our imagination.
We fight for the right to be in our black and brown skins without fear
We fight for the right to live in community with the natural light
We fight for the right to sing our song in any key in any tone in any frequency
so that bees and butterflies are not molested
so that maize and pollen are free to make love with humans and insects
We have arrived
at the shores
of a broken world
beatened men
impaled women
unlucky new borns
who have inherited a war of worlds
payable through an electronic debit plan
You cannot download utopia or useless ancestors
Your laptop will never have enough memory to install the new old world...
