the machine broke the god-man’s bones in oklahoma;
the god-man will break the machine’s back in america.
his beloved mehera’s skull was crushed and scarred;
modern ugliness will fade because her beauty was marred.
their journey to suffering remembered the “trail of tears”:
the forced removal of the american without peer.
“america is crying out for my blood”, he had said;
so much of this country’s history wants the master dead.
genocide, slavery and the cult of the machine:
the cruel nightmare of materialism’s dream.
the poverty of our comfort will only last so long;
soon we will have only calloused hands and pure song.
after that crash the master was found with radiant face:
darvish, his holy compassion had saved the human race!
