“Why should Caesar get to stomp around like a giant while the rest of us try not to get smooshed under his big feet!? What’s so great about Caesar? Hmm? Brutus is just as cute as Caesar! Okay? Brutus is just as smart as Caesar! People totally like Brutus just as much as they like Caesar! And when did it become okay for one person to be the boss of everybody? Huh!? Because that’s not what Rome is about! We should totally just stab Caesar!!”—Gretchen Weiners
blocking out the stars all the time he spent waiting for the end the end never came it was like an endless song and it took some time before he realized that their lives were run by the steel and wire of powerlines the electricity which moves so easily when it’s gone the solar system will just carry on and though the people keep in touch their bodies go untouched they’re well preserved for a future of transmissions from above perfectly in sync ten billion hearts would start he waited for the end but the end became a start all he had was this moment in his hands a poison dart to shoot his magnificent plans right into the sky and they’d come tumblin’ down into the powerlines he held right in his hands to shake all evidence in a pocket’s one red cent devotional by sense with pockets baring threads i needed a marksman to thread my needles through and through if i’m to run this down and sew it up tearing, torn, unused. the fires magnified in certain light (magnified in light) living underneath an ill lit sky (but thriving without light) and the fires magnify with time it’s getting late to change a mind it turned to a culture of discouragement like coins let’s spend the youth or get them used to spending hard attestation to the truth ‘o the ramparts we watch’ yeah just blacking out on start did you realize the weapon is inside the walls of your heart?