Trees pray to the sky
June 10, 2012
The Planet Judas
The rocks have eyes. Brown like caramel. The trees pray to the sky. The priests are swinging from branch to branch. Like 12 year old boys playing strip poker. In the sacristy. During lunch.
For a while I thought the pope was a fine fellow. I used to think that galleries were like grocery stores. For culture. I used to think that people were poor. On merit. That greed was a kind of disease. There would soon be a cure.
Buck up. Take a deep breath. Quit falling down on your face. Before the rich bastards. Who are taller than you because they’re standing on their wallets.
The planet is closing her eyes. The oceans are weeping. Into the sky. The sky is weeping. Into the universe. All of our final words. Are commercials. Civilizations far away will hear our voices. And wonder. Why.We committed suicide.