we are eight billion mouths,
eight billion hooves pounding dust,
a storm of flesh without a map,
grazing on borders that shift like mirages.
the lions wear suits now.
they do not roar, they legislate.
their teeth are spreadsheets.
their claws compound interest.
......
we are eight billion mouths,
eight billion hooves pounding dust,
a storm of flesh without a map,
grazing on borders that shift like mirages.
the lions wear suits now.
they do not roar, they legislate.
their teeth are spreadsheets.
their claws compound interest.
......