lupe

do you hear

do you hear at all, friends?

you do not

do you speak
do you speak at all, friends?
(for being deaf, you must be dumb)
do you hear
their wails
come forth
from bloodied frothing lips
their howls ripped with zest
from vibrant hurting hearts
and gifted to the full moon

for the pleasure of your station

you might see them
on tubes, nefarious liars as they are
thinking their pain attractive
their contrived allure enticing you
the danger of their lives
calling hither your pretentious sensibilities

but you see,
they suffer

the howling mass suffers
the children of the night
slaves of the moon
bound by the wants of your station

and the deafness, dumbness and silence it ensures

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