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