"Somebody needed to get shot over this,"
said a toddler with a big block TV for a head
where on screen DNA spirals a noose around
her mother's throat.

          She hobbles that broken back dance
          across four lane city roads.

How many things can bear forgetting before everything becomes a mechanism?

          Here is a yell that means I'm hungry.
          Here is an inheritance.
          Here is desperately filling every emptiness.

"Everyone is God and Holy," said Micheline,
towards the lacksense owners of casinos who never bat an eye 
until their sons are gunned in Tallahassee for trying to get a life without odds.

          Here is flat-tone meaning.
          Here is meal replacement for your brain.
          Here is your mother on a gurney again.

Mayan is a uni dropout tree planting crewboss and general forestry work tramp. They write and will continue to write. On the lookout for 21st century Beats. Peace & love and all that.