Memorandum To The Spirit of The Earth

Sisters in prisons are a living breathing metaphor
For the earth in chains, bleeding and sore
Wounded and raped, left to die of disease on the floor

Breathe mother, breathe
Heaven can't help us, I see
Listen to the madman!
Only madmen listen to me

Young mothers are hooked and relapsing
While The Earth Mother lets out Her Last Breaths Gasping
Look deep into reality
Meditate, slow down and stare
Into the universal nightmare
That all living things share
How could anything at all afford not to care?

We drift to sleep softly cryin'
'Cause what we're praying to is dyin'
Into primordorial worlds we creep
Into the Soul of the Earth,
We travel deep
In here with all creatures of earth, air, and waters
Even with the unborn children of our unborn daughters

Along with our undocumented mothers
And the struggling others
In here with our walking wounded brothers
This is the realm of the living and the dead
There will be no safe place to rest your head
Where we gonna hide from the Hell we've made?
Sex-working abused sisters, daughters, and wives
Struggling to make some sense of their lives
Living in terror
Terrorized by Free Trade Agreements
Terrorized by cages, guns, and knives
Sex-workers going down in the ice cold-hearted silence of history,
But there's no silencing the inner primal scream!

Our policed sisters
Our encaged sisters
Our enraged sisters
Alienated, alone and sighing
As we share the universal experience of a planet dying

Human suffering is a parallel
To the suffering of the rest of the Creation
We're as stressed and polluted
As the soil, air, waters, animals, and vegetation
We are the original victims of that which threatens the life of the biosphere
Our own patriarchal rulers are the agencies that I fear
I think civilization ought to go on vacation
So that we can get on with the Great Purification

Have mercy on the poor
Have mercy on the fish and flowers
Have no mercy on the merchants selling bombs and building towers
Have mercy on every living creature at birth
Have no mercy on the manufacturers of Hell on Earth
Have some mercy on the robots and drones who pout
A little mercy for the plugged-in
When the power-grids go out,
When the toilets back up,
And we learn to do without
I'll be howling in the mountains
Beating on a drum
Shitting on a composte heap
Learning how to hum