into a still and leaden crypt ... with sun eclipsed, poets refused the moon, and the seductive wind turned against us as storm and tyrant and terror.
cry, beloved country as lunatics lead us down the old roads and paths of electoral politics and compliance to old brands and talking points. we, left drowned before the glaciers melt.
cry the beloved country as lunatics lead. and we, unknowingly unwittingly unceasingly remain complicit. we, left starved before the blight.
cry, beloved planet . . . i do still love thee so.