All hail the Corporate Empire.
Poison-pushers and war-mongers rejoice; your neckties have absolved your sins.
The rusted wheelchair left to rust by the riverside finds a new owner.
A lonely overpass serves its intended purpose: a home for American families.
A toxic watershed refreshes a dry throat. Blessed are the war-makers; gifted are the clever thieves.
Someone, somewhere, made note of the misery and went wholly unnoticed.
Crying for the dream we all lost, she spoke of her true feelings.
Striving for the world we envision, he came to know his heart.
An exchange of blood for money; the transaction making us all a little bit evil.
==============================================
Inspired by “Praise to the Highways” by Roberto Bolaño appearing in the December 2009 issue of Harper’s Magazine.
No comments:
Post a Comment