The Indefinite Detention Extermination Camps of America-
What poem could I possibly write? Words collapse in on themselves,
Like the word "freedom." The highest ideal. "Liberty." "Justice."
Images of prisons are flashing through my consciousness;
These are the associations drawn from my inner psyche;
"Justice" is reduced to imprisonment, monetary fines, death;
"Liberty" is reduced to some semblance of choice
that one has, to serve what corporation, to study what topic in school.
Black. My spirit is black. Darkness is my core. I am the law.
I am not free to die; I enslave myself to the prison of my body,
Some part of me wants to say, "I am an enemy of the United States.
Exterminate me." Yes, to surrender. No! No! No! No! No! No!
There's beauty somewhere in all of this. But it is hidden, attacked,
By bleakness, by the desolation of being one man, alone,
The desolation in the utter vastness, the utter emptiness of this
vast expanse of a continent. Lost somewhere therein, some wild
Beauty. America is trying to kill her but she can't. America will die first.
America is the enemy of this land. America is a figment of the imagination,
A lie, an assault on Her beauty, a mass delusion.
I am the enemy of America! I am the grass growing from the soil!
The trees stretching to the sky! I pledge no allegiance to your
United States. I pledge to destroy them. I am Nature. I am not a terrorist;
I AM TERROR ITSELF. I reside in the soiled hearts of dull-minded politicians.
I am the feeling of fear for one's life in the midst of war. You cannot wage
War against me. I exist because of War. So, you can put this human
skeleton in an extermination camp, but he is only the messenger.
Jameson Freethy is no one, he is only the messenger, and he welcomes
death. I speak to you from beyond the contrapment of human existence;
I speak to you from within the atoms of your imagination, of your
soul. America can kill Jameson, but not me for I exist beyond death. I
am Death. Let me make it perfectly clear; I intend to destroy.