Justice
is the human ability...
Forests in suits,
trees dressed in metal...
Why is it
that never and always...
(a hymn from the Book of the Crossroads)
Here I go...
When all the bubbles burst,
in far-off islands...
Oh,
my chest...
My brothers,
my sisters...
I live at point zero,
where no idols rise from belief...
There is no truth
entirely seen...
The beast did not see the lamb.
It saw only meat...
I have been kept a prisoner,
a prisoner of being alive...
Oh yes—
it’s always a good pitch that does it...