Away from the river. Away from the smoke of the burning. Fearful survivors. Subject of government directives. One sad guitar note. Echoes of the wall of the jungle.
They're getting prepared to haul a car out of the river. Noise and smoke and concrete seem to be going on forever. Grinding gears and drivers getting high on exhaust.
Strikes across the frontier and strikes for higher wage. Planet lurches to the right as ideologies engage. Suddenly it's repression, moratorium on rights.
I was up all night, socializing. Trying to keep the latent depression from crystalizing. Now the sun is lurking just behind the Scarborough horizon. .