WEBVTT

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"Britain After a Massacre
in the Year 2018."

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They dream of a massacre
that can take place

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in public and private
at the same time.

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They like to watch us as we look
into each other's empty faces.

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They like to hear us say,
that was the one I loved.

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We forget our bondage.

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We are not yet dead.

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We are at the border of
the before and the after.

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Soon we will cross
through the door

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and become the subjects of an
endless detective novel that

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began in the 15th century.

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We are parasites.

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And we will always be
silenced, because silence

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is the traditional
tactic of our people.

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We are parasites.

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We are silent.

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And even when we are
dead, the country

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will remain in our
voracious parasite hands.

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Why have they protected
you for so long,

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the authoritative bodies ask
us, right before they kill us?

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Why have they protected
your parasitic bodies

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for so many centuries?

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They want us to answer
the question even

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though we can only be silent.

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We dream that if we give
the right answer, then

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perhaps they will not kill us.

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But then they disappear us.

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And when they disappear
us, they tell us

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we are savages with
the audacity to have

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forgotten our own bondage.

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You are a voracious colony
of parasitic savages

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who poison the people with your
fingers that reek of money.

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Your fingers are
the ghost of money.

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Your mouths are
the ghost of money.

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Your tongues are
the ghosts of money.

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They shove money
into our mouths,

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because they know that
even when we are dead,

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we will have the
power to control

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the media from the bank.

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They take us to the
dump and load our bodies

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into a container with cars
that have been obliterated

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in the toxic dumping ground.

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They disappear us in the
toxic dumping ground.

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They drop us into
the scrap metal heap.

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They ghost wash us in
the scrap metal heap

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and plaster our bodies
against the compressed cars.

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We are with the metal now.

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And soon they will
take us to be recycled.

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This is the ironed waste ground
of the Industrial dead zone,

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where they stick the
parasitic bodies who

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lived, slobbering over money and
scheming to control the state.

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They crush us into
the stacked cars.

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And we hear the
disappeared cries

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of the bodies we
wanted to become.

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We are the privatized
parasites of death.

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We will miss ourselves
so much when we are gone.

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They force us to survive.

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The shithole won't
let us be nothing.

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