A Bit of Prose and Such
By Nate Davis Late one eve,Or shall we sayEarly the next morn,An obnoxiously sauced,Tricked and sickened,Pre-Colombian AmericanGlaredIn the directionWhereA moon beams reflectionHinted of men with white skinAnd short-lived grins wereIn the distanceWhose technologiesWould not stop in theFace of any resistance And the idealsthat enable such controlTrapping inhabitantsboth young and oldMust change,For patterns of unjustpain and … [Read more…]