Cokbod Lodwogo

(1979-present / San Leandro)

The Nocturnal Blood


The nocturnal blood washes the day down the river
In a flow that encompasses all war torn provinces
Where all natural light cannot be seen through the shroud
of the blood soaked blanket
A white light shines with a mock brilliance of mistrust
that takes advantage of people wearing off white
rags over their meatless bones
Because they can hardly stand
Because they can hardly speak
Energy looted and put on the truck of the warlords
who serve their people tablespoons of famished morsels
Their world is fenced off and quarantined in a blood bath
where the people wash their kids and livestock
Everything is encased in blood
Produced by the hands of the megalomaniacs
who subtracted humility until it hit zero
There are no profits in good treatment

Submitted: Friday, April 18, 2008

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