I step out of the plane
Baggage on my right hand
A bag of toys on the other.
One foot touches the concrete.
The hard surface onto the soft soles of my feet.
Five stories up: I see a billboard of Amerikan beauty
Endorsed, imposed, and enforced
Traffic comes, emitting the smog of progress.
The scent hits my face and rushes up my nose.
Projected upon my mental walls were the pictures I ignored the most
And it read:
"Make More, Sell More, Buy More."
I didn't know how to speak American then
But it translated:
"In this world, the rich live on the lap of luxury built upon the
dead bodies of the poor. "
A whip of fresh corporate air
Mother Nature stripped bare
Gangbanged by big businesses
Her lush fields became exploited mistresses
Chopped up and blended fetuses
Sucked out of the ground
Injected into nuclear reactors
Then buried and nowhere to be found
Except on the land of her natural protectors
The indigenous: forced into boxes by the Master
Their bones snapped, their wings clipped
From their bodies
Chained down to a bare metal cage
Cooped up like livestock
Like lambs to the slaughter
Forced to sign meaningless treaties
He pryed their mouths open
And given a sip of capitalist hemlock
They propped up casinos
Like another band-aid on the cancer
Like another meal given to the prisoner
Like another humanitarian project
To make bodies healthy for genocide.