Oh my heart

what unnecessary evil

Let’s set fire to the dragon’s hoard and

Live among the people

Before I light the matches

And you pour the ethyl

In case we both die

Meet me once by the steeple

Cold white in the face

But still hot beneath embers

Fresh tracks run in circles

With us at the center

When the circle it closed

sending us to the Mentor

Outstretched were it’s wings

When it asked that we enter

We could have had art and community, agriculture and science. Instead, we live for rent, and the profit of those decided to be more fortunate than us. A decision made not nature, but by the man much affected by the fact of others’ lives being lived unlike his own.

Why all?