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The faces,
of, both,
bad, and, good;
have, all been; painted red.

Now, that,
the world, has begun,
to, be spun,
in, an entrenched, deepfaked,
forward-motion, tethered; backwards.

The paint,
is, innocent’s;
apathetic blood,
mixed, with; a hue of dread.

You’ll taste;
the metallic gun,
and; the setting sun,
in, seasoned, incensed, photographed;
before, and, ever-afters.

And, in, the final,
scarlet rotation,
as, the splattered gore,
befouls; oceans, forests,
and, old mines,
the enfleshed vinyl’s,
last quotation,
will be, “We grovelled; to gold.
So, we bored, we trowelled,
we became hollowed,
for; plastic, and, mankind.”

Over, and, over, and, over, and, over, and…..

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