Monsanto’s Hand
Power—filled possibility
Burning tears dropped in oceans of spiraling pools
Followed to the center of sun
Embracing for the eyes of beasts
More willing to lift up arms
Than sit in layers of stillness
Reflecting,
The destruction of form
Peeling the great separation
Soul and form
Unveil a great curve
Nature has been rejected
Crossing fields with metal tools
We have been exiled from wandering and
The steel monster wants to play all day long—
Monsanto’s Hand.
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Assistant Ed.: Stephanie Sefton/Ed: Bryonie Wise
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