the east is red
idealism and cigarette smoke seeping through the cracks
bang bang.
the east is red with blood
political prisoners wear the shackles
of their executed brothers
stealing from the condemned,
the government purges the dead of their organs
terror, tanks and turmoil
nightmares come alive
the dead parade brags of bullet wounds
the soldiers fight with ak47s, the peasants fight with knives
hell come forth, the air alive with gunshots and
communist war songs
crushed appendages of living men and
the rot of severed fingers
become the scent of a carnal massacre
the people's square shall be the people's
grave.

red silk nation.
the capital, each granite block painted with the blood of
a different rebel

while the east is red,
the future of the east is
dead.
21.....22....23....24...
offspring in a flower vase
2,825....2,826....2,827....
each corpse with its own number
a jackpot for those with a lucky one.....

while hospitals redress wounds
the radio station plays...a drawling farmer voice-
"the soldiers love the people! and the people love the soldiers! ~lalala!~"
a song dancing in the irony of time, trapped in a two dimensional hell
3,000/300? its anyone?s guess

the square in the center of a very small universe...
is paved with bones and rotten eyeballs
excuse me comrade, may i borrow a broom?
.....
look!capitalist slogans written in peasant blood upon barricades built by an army of zombies

who shall be next to die?

the
east
is
red

BANG BANG.

the east is red with

blood