It is a story of scattered ashes

and broken tribes

where footprints arrived

and took the memory

of everything

the land once was.

 

The made man

cackles in my ears.

He lights a cigar,

pours a neat drink

and tells me the bell is tolling

for the big blue marble,

 

unless we stand together

and face the next sunrise as one

hold hands and proclaim

it’s time for the Care Bear stare.

 

My mind is frozen over

with pride

and I am at the top of the rock

letting my barbaric yawp

unite the clans and tribes.

 

Ninety-nine 99 percent

is only a theory.

The truth is

we are all one.

Freedom still exists

and is nothing,

but a grand state of mind.

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