in the masonry
cracks
of the dreamtime
war machine
And the geometric logos —
banks,
pharmacies —
go dark
to those who see
A collective finger to the lips
goes over the land
To those who no longer
can sleep
or keep
their minds closed
As the structures
above the landscape
have buckled
and folded
into chaos
without a noise.
Birds fly out of
empty buildings
as flies escape
from skulls.
The darkness has come
and you are free;
Total control of your life
is not even
whispering.
