god bless the kids in Myanmar, the kids in Colombia getting killed in the streets, in 'clashes' where the cops always manage to walk away ok, where the sacrifices are executed, blood magic is the underwriting of the currency, the iron in the iron bank is from your sweet hemoglobin, washing with that of your allies, distilled down into glass capillaries that run through their walls, pulsing with stored power and menace, the threats on your life are singing from the CB radios, from dispatch desks, on frequencies that you legally can't monitor, lest you get wise and run
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