to whom do you pledge your allegiance? does your consciousness wake up on the right side, or the left do you slumber forever in the land where Blood is exchanged for sand tea, the beverage of retroactive greed, hoarding those things for which you have no permission, ignoring the hosts at the black Kofi table? do you seek to be the oppressor hiding in the bushes— chronic abuser of hopes, abortionist of peace-- calling yourself the lover of humanity when all you seek is to create a stench attracting vultures to precious flesh and will your Volvo appreciate you more and for having done so, for invoking the wrath of this cursed hallucination who dare gives you permission to affirm what you cannot prove-- this attrocity against the angels; this unholy holocost against all souls © 2003 by cynth'ya lewis reed