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- by Linn Barnes

-Linn Barnes

The reeds have rotted
and the wind has blown 
the lake waters
to a sad other shore,
where darkness lifts 
to a sad dawn.

Where now the new world 
groans and pushes for birth,
and the terminal old 
gag on the bile they have
pumped full into the world,
where not one single drop
was ever, not ever, worth
a goddamned dram
of anything vaguely real.

Where the grifted innocent,
taken once by surprise,
now begin to see clearly
into the red mist as it 
swarms and begins to clear
the lies and illusions,
the poisons and fears
wrought by greedy 
fools with fascistic 
dead dreams
from the dreary
fantasies of long 
dead and dying 
next to nothing 
worthless fools.