I watched you walk through
this bleeding flat expanse,
not existing according to whatever
geography-class-genocide
of the literal outside
that you've decided to study up on,
and erect,
like some cock-eyed dancing deity
and direct everyone's gaze
inward,
in a corner,
to an ivory statue with feet
planted, seemingly, firm into the dirt,
palms facing inward, eyes cast down
to look at where the people lay
groveling on the earth
while the sky cascades down around them
in a waterfall of fire and wreckage;

toss in some limbs
and we have ourselves a show!

ignore history
and we've got us a just war
that's worth it's weight in souls,
cause it's gonna take
a thousand lives
and ten thousand miles
of bandages
to lead us out of this long gone expanse,
now stained with whatever carnage
you could muster
to deviate our gaze
down and away from
your bloodied hands.

By Lauren Maxfield.