they couldn't douse the flames the allied planes had showered on her tiny body. and

all the paper trails tha

D to all the roads that lead to all these basras make it seem like we're all just

"collateral damage" waiting to be happened in some unforeseen pentagon

budget-drill. today's ba'ath re

Is just the red scare of yesteryear. and i drink myself to sleep because i'm losing

faith that any of us will ever amount to anything more than reluctant human

subsidies, the moving parts in a d

Machine, protesting their complicity, but waiting for somebody else to throw their

body on the churning gears. i drink myself to sleep because i'm losing faith that

we, here in the cradle of aff

E can cease this sickening drive for individual strength through state-powers'

swinging fists or that we'll ever look back and laugh at the irony that is: an

atomic murderer is enshrined in inde

Nce, usa while 8000 miles from here (ba

Ck in the cradle of democracy) it's another banner year for a cottage industry ¨c a

ritual at the corner of george and constantine - as foundries scramble to recast his

decapitated monument.