zaterdag 11 januari 2014

gods of ugly

From the hills engines ate a crop of stones. Stone-feathered birds
breed in a valley,
iron-edged towns with names suffering the conquest of nothing special,
appartment blocks, rectangular skylines, all equal.

The gods of Ugly rule the place. A landscape every second
and a thousand rules and names.
Rule one. Too many generations of idiots have conceived this inferior fight against all and everything.

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