Aorta

de Tanya Tagaq

Our mother grows angry
Retribution will be swift
We squander her soil and suck out her sweet black blood to burn it

We turn money into God and salivate over opportunities
To crumple and crinkle our souls for that paper, that gold
Money has spent us
Left us in smog

Locks is dark, room is bright, screams empty to us
Left investing time, hollow philosophies
To placate the fear of our bodies returning back into our mother

Demand awakening
The path we have taken has rotted
Ignite, stand upright, conduct yourself like lightning because
The retribution will be swift

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