planting angel eggs on a dying world. planting angel eggs on a dying world at the feet of billboards in the clear cut waste lands by the rivers of tears from Yemeni mothers, under highway overpasses were defective gear turners sleep. shambling from crater to crater untree stump legs, wailing whale songs and praying to unprofitable gods. planting them in the ashes whispering, may there be kindness, may there be seeing, may there be artist lovers who are each other's muse. dancing adoomed dance, a dance of holy futility, a dance of madmen, a dance of heretics, a dance of censored saints of banished bootas, singing a song of hopeless hope, irrational hope, unscientific hope, the hope of lovers and lunatics, a lunatics song sung to the moon. dance with us gentle stranger, through this world of disney deforestation and unexplored abyss with unauthorized choreography and wondermented eyes. let us hold the line against the empire of earth eaters, for no other reason than that were the only ones left who are crazy enough to try. there may be a hatching yet gentle stranger, humanity is not broken, any more than an egg is a broken bird.