fear rituals from the 49th parallel no.3

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a chemical sky blankets the city as a blazing sun hangs buried in a discoloured heavens… a campfire flickers, illuminating the treeline as a series of effigies steadily sink betwixt the diseased mangroves… masked incantations in moon-menageries of hell… guard-towers vowing to reach up through the smog…

grain elevators in flames… a ruined pavilion reveals a wind-shattered dream… abandoned train-lines ache, rusted and lost… landscapes alive with burning tyres, burning flowers, burning fields… factory smoke stacks hang dormant above empty lots, project housing, school-yards, gas-stations…

riot shields, blast walls, tear gas… a lone generator moans and reverberates in a sunken outhouse as an oil drum fire flickers and spits… a camera flies high above all the ruined cities of the western lands… pages unbound, and burning… a sentence ignites, enraptured in mid-air… here are litanies of fear from the 49th parallel…

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