when the water is gone

August 10, 2010 § Leave a comment

the poor will pay to live

with their fat and muscle

we will squeeze their blood from the water

and slowly dehydrate their bodies for our thirst

we could film it and let the rich be entertained

as their organs become deserts


today a man who used to fish for dinner

squeezes black gold from rocks for a living

the summer’s heat burns his soles

tar sticks to his toes

the bosses tell him to believe and vote

and he too will earn a wage to die for

at night he closes his windows

refuses to inhale another dream

a fish closes its eyes and never opens them


no one is fiddling while fires tear apart the city

we sing along with the t.v. theme song

as the credits roll by

the poor and the rich dissipate into dust and smoke

leaving nothing for the coming fires to feed on


all that is left is him and me

staring where the sky used to be


touching the sun


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You are currently reading when the water is gone at guerrilla mama medicine.


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