Ghostlimb Drowned In A Drought
through wealth and time
we stand on fault lines
51 miles in the promised land
where concrete covers up the river beds
the organized organism
takes the steps we'd surely understand
to survive
and out of its boundaries grow
to provide
the profits reaped for all the suffering sown
the midstates arid lows
to the broken dam's torrent flows
from the valley to the harbor
if we can't bring it to the city
we'll bring the city to the water
