Stoned Freedom

DOUBLEYOU-U-U!

Fucking stoned and flying as refrains of freedom’s song resonate through the smoke-haze of hell, its muted reverberations smothering the shrieks of the newly liberated, heady on the sweet smell of burnt flesh, as children sing shrill songs of freedom for mothers missing or sacrificed at freedom’s altar, lost amid the rubble of its monuments as the guns of democracy spit pellets of depleted uranium and liberty is carried on the uranium oxide dust inhaled and ingested that the oppressed may die on land scalded and leveled, ready for the development that brings the prosperity of indebtedness to the unlettered living in the glare of liberty’s phosphorescent torch. O, sing loud, freedom, that the world may hear your song and quake in anticipation of its joyful liberation.

…or something like that

me?