Politics

This is what he dreams of: a map of burned land, a mound of dirt in the early century’s winter. A map of burned land? A country is razed in the early century’s winter. And God descends. A country is raised because of industry. And God descends, messengers rush inside because of industry, in spite of diplomats. Messengers rush inside to haunt the darkened aisles. In spite of diplomats, the witnesses know well to haunt the darkened aisles, experimentally— the witnesses know well that ushers dressed in black experimentally lurk by the cushioned seats. That ushers dress in black should tell you something: lurking by the cushioned seats, the saved and the terrible. I should tell you something: this is what he dreams of, the saved and the terrible— a mound of dirt.