Most of us make America mean the world, or sometimes we put ‘Australia’ in its place. B. O’D.

the drones of prole patrol the moon that satellite of filth – their lanterns mark the greasy poles its dark side pepper (salt with futile cries & lunar dews & sad stories drones will tell of extra-terrestrial rents & arbitrage by mammon’s earthly (hags o’er those captains of industry whose gold we gleefully polish in…