Mislaunch for Success

The wonders of the rocket age
Sending man into infinity
Strapped to explosions
And hope for a future.

Where everywhere the sun shined,
Glinting offa white surfaces
And everything was so cold
I could see my breath in late capitalism.

Smoking dreams while birds preen
Behind Buddhist churches
Where friends don’t grow wiser—
The world hurts them and they get mean.

We proceed without design
Towards destruction and redemption
Both bloody stumps
Of the hands we used to work with.

In stifling still conditions
While the forest around is smolderin silently
Jaguars cry—
Their tears snuff nothing.

No cell phones for interceptors
No computers for eternal databases
No faces for camera
Nor fingerprints for labs.

Rearrange my bookshelf
With Revolution as A,
And patriarchy down below—
Gravity never disappears
But it’s something we can control.

– Michaël Veremans

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