Bad People
Bad people sharpen their teeth on old car parts
and stick pins into soft creatures.
They stare at you intently
figuring out how to take you to pieces
and plant your bones in the earth to grow slaves.
You and I are not like the bad people.
We like it here.
This is our home.
We want the green things to flourish
and to blossom into bright things,
not to die and get turned into oil.
We are at home with the robins and the chirp flies.
We place our feet on the ground
and let the grass weave jewelry for our toes.
We are staying here.
We can plant olive trees.
We can run up mountains with unprotected flesh
and have unprotected sex with unprotected hearts
full of unprotected wishes and unprotected dreams.
We can dance with the giant iguanas in the nadir
as rainbow tears soak our clothes into mushroom food.
For in the end death must die,
my sky-faced lover.
We will beat the bad people.
We will win.
So come dance with me inside this large footprint
to the music of the tree dragons awakening.
Let ivy grow in between our pupils and pelvises
as we wait for death to get its wish.
If you enjoyed this, subscribe to my website’s mailing list and watch for emails that say “Summa Psychonautica” in the title. This is an ongoing project which will turn into a book at some point in the future. In the meantime, consider buying my first book Woke: A Field Guide for Utopia Preppers.