The Devolved

All the men and women of our tribe grew four arms and four legs with colorful hair and blood moon eyes eclipsing a myriad of worlds unfathomed — we’d hang out around office buildings where we’d ingest magical drugs and ridicule their greed — the Big Boss couldn’t believe it when we stopped caring and sprucing ourselves up in suits and ties — we said to hell with our jobs and realized how easier it became to get lost on trails away from the city — we’d carve nightmares on our limbs and welcome the warm flesh of harlots, harlequins & nuns alike with our words whisky-smooth & risqué, scat-singin’ rhapsodic songs wherein both the lion and the lamb belongs —we’d seek shelter from storms in ancient churches and feed the poor on its steps — we’d take over warehouses from big corporations to turn them into free Airbnbs with ginormous adult bunk-beds for the lost — and despite how obnoxious all the fire trucks wailed their horns, we couldn’t help but notice the gorgeous sunset while the whole world burned.