from fattened famished farm
We together harvest,
the more we cut the crops and
into the basket we drop,
the more the employed-employer takes from us.
do we now sacrifice to get
ourselves a death bed
or do we thumb on sheets to
get our tongue thirsty like
fire?
we are told to rest
for awhile
that things will think through one day
But the woman that has no womb
when will it yoke a foetus
or birth?
Ah, when the cock sees the day approach
and keeps shut
know that the day may never arrive as a day.
when the trouble chases the horsemen
like a tornado
and they leave their horses and stand to look
know that the brain is now called to work.
the cock has refused to crow
the horse men should drop from their horses too.
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