ST129 ... friends and enemies, politics, division and conspiracies.

joe hates 'him' with a passion so fierce it could squash brains,

Some of the anti-conspiracy crowd presumes they are so clever, unraveling conspiracies of the new regime that leads right on back through to the shysters of the deep fake-opposition pawns and beyond. If they dig far enough they'll end up being critical theorists just like all the other risky thinkers that comprehend to various degrees that 'money doesn't talk, it swears' (dylan) - 'all belief is make belief' (ptw) - 'waking up is hard to do' (Grey Ego) - 'not too many people know we're all the same' (gHarrison) -'Now, when all the clowns that you have commissioned Have died in battle or in vain And you’re sick of all this repetition Won’t you come see me, Queen Jane?' (bDylan) - and on and on

in the world along a canal sun shone hard
in a pale afternoon with a sea calm
no one else noticed the clouds moving in grey
time was staring strength into the breeze
the kid was on his last look into a lure of trees
when a burst of shattered dreams flew in from the east
a few friends gathered around and watched
the sun was setting like an injured ship
they chattered about empathy for souls fading
as the sea opened up like a hungry mouth
swallowed their wings whole
spread their remains
along sands of silent gold

he begged them with his broken tongue
they were busy boasting about their love