Rioter

let us now kill
those who have made us

(let us at least begin)

occult urging of moon
and wind aside
there is much to recommend
a massacre

when we see ourselves
in their faces
we feel the allure
of broken mirrors
when we see our feet
in their footprints
we understand the ripping
of maps

we are smeared with the honey
of their world
the ants who trail us
are our conscience

surely we were born riotous
and have simply forgotten
the glad sweat on the brow that comes
from trashing the iron past
in favor
of the porcelain future

let us then begin
to kill that which has made us
as to stand alone
is the only way one can stand
at the end of the day