Or go mad ourselves
When we get hurt
There is no way to stop working
And the hospitals ask for our papers
We take drugs drink alcohol
Fall asleep in the sun in blurry
Booziness or stay high all day
Trying to remain apart from it
But we are in it and we see
Them pilot private jets
Into the burning horizon
Build tract homes
On the wildflower prairies
To get by you must live
Without consequences
And this we must teach to those
Who do not understand this
Living in their villages
Weaving textiles feeding their animals
Greeting the sun the earth the rain
Please listen that is the dance of fools
We must tell them
Don't you understand this
Charge money for water
And sell guns to enforce this
Let each other die
And be indifferent to this
This is very important
Chop dig demolish burn
And some of you will ascend
A golden ladder
Because you have earned it
(Photo by Victoria Vera)
No comments:
Post a Comment