Morning time
Strata of grey waves subside into lightening. It is from my fortress, a place of security that I observe the universe, a lover’s best with love, with no love. I hear the restless city re-aligning itself, absolving itself. Industry proceeds unabated, details stripped to their core then revamped with the latest technologies. The past caned into oblivion, facts morphed into history. The throb of propaganda pulses through the termini. Trucks strain under their cargo, used to be horses, they are no longer in bondage round here.Wild horses still roam Southern Africa where the two-toed vaDoma lives.Those genes crossed oceans.
It is the mind that requires redemption, the body is past repair. There are too many people chafing at the bit, too few with the courage to face the intangible. Our hour is infinite, but there is no known inoculation against rustle, hustle, and bigotry.
War solves all problems. Oh what lovely wars we had, the more they were the merrier - now only fools and depressives fight in that way. New military developments entail looking at screens and pressing buttons. Contemporary warfare, often demands less bravery than crossing the road. Much ignorance and prejudice lie between the ears. The poisoner does not mention destroyed cultures and ways of life, he decrees sickness a panacea. Embarrassed smiles, shuffling feet, shrugged shoulders. Well everyone colonized, didn't they? Sins visit the sons of the fathers.
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