Wednesday, November 03, 2004


I considered writing about the environmental devastation that is sure to ensue over the next four years, but instead decided to post a poem I wrote for Extinct, which is strangely appropriate.

This is truly a sad day.

The Void

true vision is in the macabre
caught like deer in the underbrush,
fleeing the burning of old trees,
former temples where we worshiped full bellies
and nullified thirst,
swimming the damage in a trance, humming
lunatic verse like it will save us from ourselves.

we live in a vacuum where
the stars turn dark as almonds,
floods relinquish their
sweat on the land,
and a great panther stalks the fears of man

the fields where we played as children,
now an open pit feeding rats and rubber appliances
left like social relics:
our loving, a pool of fabric and force;
our youth,
fat blank pictures,
grand beasts
now bones scattered on our lawn.

in the void
i see the future like a goblin sitting in his waste,
demanding more and more until


and i want to stop it,
but the chorus of disease, a song
being sung from the earth’s wide
has already begun

and the eternal eye, turned

© Aleah Sato


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