The Nurture of Torture


The boat that carries the coat of arms
The ship that appears in the clip of the war
The man with the tan who is selling the can
The bomb that was found while combing the tombs
The payroll that is likely to be here to stay
The culture of the future that is being conjectured
The flight of the light that is quietly disturbing
The line that is being drawn by the programmed spine
The key that is being typed and the key that is being pressed
The screen on the wall behind the tall stall
The wheels whirling on the broad hard road
The sheep with sharp teeth who think that they are deep
The tire of fire burning on a sticky or thick neck
The nurture of torture and the suited-booted butcher
The vision of official peepers creeping in every corner

Like blood sucking bugs and flesh eating birds
Like demolition cranes working ceaselessly in my brain
Like stacks of crushing bags loaded on my back

I want to go on working
But they are driving me to paralysis

Can you see them – can’t you see them?

They are doing something horrible
They are doing something horrible

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