wisdom near the trolleys at night

do you remember when we used to just be light bulbs? No cameras shoved in our brains, no listening devices threading our poles?

Yeah, those were the days. People walked hand in hand, whispering details of the day, no need to figure out if someone was mentioning “glock”, “cybercash”, “plastics” or “eternity.”

did you see the students marching over the bridge?

did i see them? They were carrying more hardware than the cops on the beat. What gives? Is this america, or is this Paris 1700s?

what do you think has the squares so gloomy, so mischievous, so . . .

— treasonous? Sabatoeuresque?

i didn’t want to be the one to say it. but yeah, what gives?

well, you’d think it would be this issue or that. This deprivation, that over-gluttonous pile.

but . . .?

well if you want to know . . .

of course i want to know, spit it.

well . . . its a bit darker than these streets.

i’m listening.

lean in a little.

i’m as close as I can get. what is it?

the underworld.

the underworld? what’ve they to do with it?

endless lust for chaos and murder.

hmmm……. Who lusts for death? I mean really.

he does.

who does?

the source of all hate and lies.

does this he have a name?

yes, but you’re not going to get me to say it.