The sanctioned sanctuary of our century
Is pretend nescience by many nations,
Ingenuous negligence, built on 'intelligence'.
Well, fuck these sentiments, enough of lecturing.
I stain this canvas... those recreations
Of a disturbed mind, in all their elegance.
I don't complain, I'm getting off the plane
And walking right through the red corridor.
Guess what, my plan is plain.
Got something to declare?
Yes, I declare a war!
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The Spring
The sun was high when Lance pulled off the road and into the dusty lot of the service station. The sign back at the hairpin--the first sign in a long time--said they just rolled into Hatter’s Creek, Population 63. It was small enough it didn’t appear on the handmap in Shelby’s lap, yet here it stood, the first backwater township on the fringes of the National Park. The plan was to gas up, restock the snack bag, and press on into the wilderness.
By Zack Graham4 days ago in Fiction
Comments (1)
Too late. I do believe it's already been declared. I get you, though.