I am eager in animal howl long kept rightfully restrained in the shadows, as I persist amongst the humans…to unshackle fangs and devour ALL WORDS ,but Lif then appears, to show how Words can be pure, wicked, playful and meaningful>>>

where are the weapons of mass destruction,

we’ve been looking for months and we’ve found nothing…

‘Whats the reason for the War?

Im shooting at people Ive got no animosity for…’

This is the track that should be played in every school, in every country, repeated daily in the US to students. before they get to the age when the reality of how vicious humanity and the world beyond can and will be, begins to register. When lif/e gets more serious.

The COVID routine is something uncertain on many levels, mainly in regards to what is it? and what/WHO made it? Yet…whatever the answers to those questions might be, we are facing a reality of lemming advance towards a brutal authoritarian state.

Where banks and states and the corporations which own them,

will decide what we can buy.

Who we can pay.

How much of anything we can purchase.

And when they wish,

when we have not met our quota for being a good corporate citizen…

will refuse us the basic capacity to survive.

not allowed to buy anything,

food, water, drugs, medicine, knives, guns, love.

No dice left to roll…when you can’t buy a damn thing.

We are sleepwalking or daymaring into this scene.

Think of the struggle of an insect,

a moth wanting nothing but the light,

or a rat,

or a bambi deer,

or a fox starving and hounded sneaking into the chicken coop to find the sustenance to survive another day…

When we compare our struggles to the extreme, chaotic fluttering between safety as bliss and mega trauma mortal threat…that all other species face not just day to day, but second to second, only a sense of appreciation for our artificial convenience and comfort can prevail. With a forked tongue flickering between staying quiet, making the most of safety and enough constrained happiness and…some other need to chase noble ideals and what makes our senses blinded by the light of finding a new Solar Flare to the primal essence, for good or ill.

One of those spat out by the WILD,

unable to be anything but a howl roar all fangs bared to get HOME….away from this exile into plastic spastic humanity.

I cannot fly into the trees to practice the new tunes prepared for the morning chorus with the sparrows, though I’d like to.

So, I need to speak human more as the wild and meaningful,

try curb the fangs and fox furtive.

as that need not be solely waging futile but noble and pure war against the horror in all forms…

Beautiful softness still abounds in our own lost tribe.

The trick is finding a balance between fighting the good fight and that softness.


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