Walking the pinto streets of white Aspen at dawn,

I see a Country of False Unity.


I see you burning.

I see you frozen.

I see you drowning in apathy.


I see survivors


to mountain meadows,

and flooded banks,

where soft and vivid flowers grow.


TVs, gadgets, giant cars

plug holes in our soles

and souls


                                    and imagination.

We used to walk!

We used to wander in wonder.

Some still!


our country is taking our country,

for oil and gas,

for cable cars in Grand Canyons

                                                that used to be safe and wild;


Fuel for Moloch!


Suck these nipples,

these final drops

of the Drying,


American Dream,

that false Fix for wants.

(I want more!)

than this thirst-sucking Sewage.

But I am down a river

out of sight


                        and sound,


drowning in the muck of an LA desert;


A river of wasting life

to spray false hope from casinos,

and water lawns of wealthy lawyers

who lobby for Money.




How could we forget Moloch?

That consumer of Man;

Moloch who made Ginsberg Howl,

                                                            half a century ago.


Moloch –

who tightened its fist as the towers toppled.

Moloch the monster.

Moloch the destroyer.

Moloch the soul sucker.

Moloch in government, Drones and bombs.

Moloch in the schools.

Moloch in the streets, blasting horns and stabbing fingers in the sky.

Moloch in my Mothers,

                                                splitting Her in two.

Moloch in our hearts,

burning, burning, burning, burning, burning BRIGHT Light


into shadowed,

frothing darkness.


We crawl beneath 

                                    a shrouded,

                                                flapping banner of one –                                                                                                                                         our Guise of shelter

shredding apart.



Fuck you. Moloch.


Fuck your guns and bullets.

Fuck your religious tools of moral hypocrisy.

Fuck you,

whores of material and corporate personhood,

raping women with birth control;

possessing people with Money Medicine.


Fuck your Bullshit, your droppings,

fed to us by Corporate News.


Some still HOWL!


Some still see




Some will not slave, lifting your concrete to heaven.

Some will die


to be a fly

                        in The Flaring Red EyEs.


Do you feel me, Moloch?

Do you feel my spit

on your Cadillac chrome?

Do you feel my Dent,


in everything you take?


I cry for humanity,

God Damn It and save it.

I write

for nations, colors, religions and insects,

and those who bombed your towers

(because you bombed Them, Moloch) –

but I will not serve you.




Take us.

Divide us.

Stomp us.

Feed as you are.


This rock will be yours.

May you MELT upon it

when soft flowers are gone.


And I will be gone,

my essence Blasted Back to Cosmic debris.



this country,

                        this World of Life,


in Death against you.




Be starved. Be Gone! Be Banished! Be Crucified! as you have crucified others.





with love.


DIE! DIE! DIE! DIE! you Beast of brutality and Greed.




I LOVE you, dear reader,

                                                who may be as lost as I am

in the fate of this burning world.


I Love You,

fellow fragile organism

                                                with eyes and feelings

and Heart of Gold

                                                that every monster wants.

I love You

as I love Myself,

as I must Love Everything

                                                of Everlasting Energy

between us,

between every atom.


I must Love.


and that is all I can Do.


                                                            Derek Franz

AuthorDerek Franz