news reports from the CNNWTZ safehouse – central hotel eden manuscript glimpse

. . . a flickering light in the long distance, the roaring din of the freight train carriage . . . slow news on a stolen breeze . . .

. . . central hotel eden, a manuscript . . . coming soon via the VI.VI.VII printing press . . . stay tuned . . .

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trump after inauguration no.1

with greasy senate fingers stuffed into our mouths, the bloated child-rapist takes to the throne… orange lizard-skin, dead eyes, a black-hearted psychotic stare over the teleprompter… one hundred thousand families in tears… rifles forced into the hands of our sons, lecherous hands cradling our daughters… poisonous waters flow over barren lands… blast-walls, checkpoints and barbed wire to the horizon…

internment camp swan-songs, oil-drum fires; strange fruit hanging from powerless street-lights… ‘if she wasn’t my daughter, i would probably aggressively rape her in the back of a chauffeur-driven presidential; no pun intended…’ columns of black smoke rising from mass-graves; burial grounds for the sick and the poor… malnutrition and abandonment for the worthless…

thousand dollar tailored slacks caked in demon-seed at the fly…. right-wing world leaders manipulating themselves to issue at the very prospect… stirring lies, misery and misinformation into a sinister brew to choke the pained throats of the poor unfortunates… grab her by the pussy and murder her sons where they try to rest… white devil apparition beaming itself from a full-hd flat-screen…

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base camp vantage point thought saturations no.1

slow imbalance shrouds conjuring frozen omens in a long cold… two room field hospital on the northern perimeter… drawn-out dissonant resonance, standardised procedures crackle in dying head-sets… a crippled sun bleeds poisoned yellow over dismal radioactive snowfields…  empty beds, shattered windows, our breath in the air as we boil the remaining rations…

morning prayer and water purification… magnesium and iron… rogue drones whine hopelessly lost in a chemical heavens… cold fronts blow in as war hymns flit and whirr from a portable turntable, car-battery operated, connected to a clock radio speaker… a hundred thousand miles of steppe, a broken promise in a long stare in the half-light…

depopulation, fire-bombing, base camp vantage point thought saturation… do that cold-hearted loss-of-innocence pose on the rifle-range, board member mahogany tables in flames…. oil-slaked body parts; war games… a protocol sheet nailed to the head of a dead child soldier… know still there is a dim flicker of salvation beyond these blackened inclines…

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