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Lucy Bikes To School by Merissa Ren

In by New Author on November 18, 2010 at 5:47 pm

Now! 3 o’clock! Straight ahead! 43.7 degrees due East!
We strike with precision: one after the other.
He feels their pull, inescapable.
I put the heavy in our hits.
I am the inevitable mass, pushing down, down, down, then broken.
Each one crushed, in quick succession, the powdery remains drawn up
into the worn empty spaces as he rolls on victorious.
Not unfeeling: each creak each shudder echoes of the conqueror’s pride.
Take that crunchy leaf! Take that tree spawn! Dead! Then dead again.
Me and he. Man and machine.
Wreaking havoc, breeding terror, eating destruction for breakfast.
Swift, Absolute.


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