. . .
A poem a day to the Millennium December 21,
1999
THE PHOENIX
death comes too soon and honors fade like fashion our children never are our own they fall like every other patient work beneath the dust of marketing there is only heartbreak to be had in oligarchy posturing as representation which false itself pretends democracy while vultures fly their shadows through our hearts economics of lust lay waste this planet justice finds no pulse within the law that cold condemns the casually minute at random to constraint their sacrifice is ritual to beguile these facts the greatest thieves are statesmen the cruelest killer in the state deep in its ashes of millennia the little worm waits its
turn
- Robert Erman
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