Across This Land of Hunger

passing like ghosts

through sleepy little towns

our faces shocking

and pale

our motives wane

and grasping

 

seeking out

the undefined

cure for pain

gnawing on the bones

of the extinct

through this

land with no answer

 

roads run ashen

on and on

across tired earth

counting the faded yellow

dashes

a meaningless message

T...T...T...T...

inviting

a new madness

 

nothing on the radio

but the soundtrack

to our long daze

of destruction

 

hey dad

can we stop

and see

the world's largest

frying pan

 

?

 

—BG 2016

Done