|
She wasn't just pretty |
|
I could see that something else was there |
|
Between those painted toes and shiny things in her hair |
|
She was more than that |
|
When I fell asleep |
|
Her multiple arms held me firm |
|
And I knew there was no escape |
|
From that embrace |
|
She is more than us |
|
She showed me wonders |
|
I could never have imagined |
|
Worlds I couldn't have dreamed: truth, no less |
|
She is: |
|
atomic petrochemical genocidal bad news |
|
She is: |
|
consumer oriented globalized and inhuman |
|
She is: |
|
her name is hidden under layers of layers and pseudonyms |
|
But I know her well |
|
Dance |
|
Sing |
|
I sleep like a baby |
|
In her many arms |
|
While she strides across the battlefield |
|
Dancing, singing, feeding |