Gaia sent a prophet
In a silverboat of hope
across the sea despair
to the land of heathens
to awaken them from
the sleep of death spells cast
by demons of deception
the pitchmen of their deadly wares
mad petrocultists who throw fire on the
house already burning
she sits small in a chair alone
before presidents and kings
and shames them with her presence
the young Cassandra in pigtails
this small girl from far away
but it’s so profitable they say
as she humbles them for ending their lives
before they have been lived
over the hunger for ever more money
the children of the future
travel back in time
to join her in disgust
their trumpets and small feet
marching in unison to bring down the walls
of corporate headquarters for extinction
shored up by injustice
and entitlement to excess
that they claim as their birthright
at whatever cost must be paid
by those whose future
they have already squandered
in her eyes millions of young faces
in her throat millions of voices
in her heart the courage of the truth
to look into the future and see
their fates tied to the
ones who have failed them
a ball rolls down the street
no one chases it
school is out forever