Another year slowly ending,
heavy eyelids
        closing.

The City is freezing.

The City is everything.

No fells to see, just poisonous beasts
with pistol engine organs;
no forest or beach,
        only felled trees
become cardboard boxes to meet
manufactured need.

I’ve seen Lilacs
beneath a cracked & dirty screen,
but the cruelty of April
        means nothing to me
since mixing memory & desire
is now
how Capital
conspires to control us:

Data is Damyatta
        & compassion
died when concrete foundations,
built over the bones of Moloch,
became home.

So wide-awake, or still
stubbornly clinging to sleep,
        we divide
along newly drawn lines:

in a world run by cunts,
the terrifying truth
is that our very existence
makes us all complicit
with a system
        built upon suffering
        & destruction.

The years will violently begin
        & our eyes must
        open again.

The seasons
        have forced our predictions
        to confront us;

now is the time for new values,
now is the time to choose:

        Which side are you on,
                &
        what is to be done?

*What Is to Be Done? – Vladimir Lenin