Crocodile Tears Ben Norton
I would cry about it, But I believe I've lost my capacity to cry. I've lost it. Really. Not even the death of Loved ones (Loved ones) Brings me to tears anymore.
In a society Surrounded by Death, In a life Of privilege, One predicated upon the death of countless Children, An edifice whose very stanchion Is a truly (dastardly) monumental mound of Lifeless, innocent, bodies, Lifeless, Innocent, Bodies... (“Monumental” in all sense of the term) Individual tears seem ARE Meaningless. White, male, hetero, cis tears—falling from the coffers of the world. (And we all know how these coffers were filled)
Notice, The tears, Like everything else in the world, Must reflect Must represent Must Be Me. Forget heliocentrism, Forget geocentrism... EGOcentrism. My religion. Through Him, With Him, In Him... Individual tears ARE Meaningless. In the unity of the‌ In a society Comprised of Death, And of Death Alone... In a society Constructed on Suffering, And of Suffering Alone‌ (Or at least mostly)
Suffering,
Of the countless
Children.
Death, of the truly monumental mound of Lifeless, innocent, bodies, Lifeless, Innocent, Bodies... “Their only crime? Being born in the wrong part of the planet”… But one trangression, One Transgression, Is all it takes... But, What does it matter? Besides, I don't deserve them anyway. I don't deserve tears. That's a luxury for the "Other." (I think that's what they call it. They. It.) And, when I know, Tomorrow, I will wake up
With warm shelter, With clothes on my back, With clean water, With clean water to run across my toil-less BODY‌ With a full stomach, With food to spare, (With a LOT of food to spare,) With friends, With family, With money in my pocket... With CONTROL OVER MY OWN LABOR AND MY OWN BODY. My. Own. FUCKING.
Body.
.
.
(It's not much to ask...
But,
Really, In the WholeSchemeOfThings
It is...)
And as I float along, Half submerged ... As I devour Most of the World... ™
With my pointed sagittate snout... With my voracious appetite... (With my CULTURE'S voracious appetite)
As I, From Log to [Hu]Man. (From Log to [HU]MAN. Spontaneous Generation ... ) And, when I know, All of this, Tomorrow... Today...
Even if I were to cry, Even if I could... Cry... Would they not be
Crocodile Tears?