02-20-18 : #InjusticeIsFatal

We’re going to march, Tuesday, February 20. 

We are Drug Users. We’re marching downtown 

to the courthouse - through the streets of Vancouver, 

where the War on Drugs (as is in Canada, as founded 

by those who continue a great thieving) began. 

We will gather at Victory Square at noon.

Get your people together. 

Yes, him, and her too, yes and those guys, them too, 

yes, and your pictures of everyone. 

Get together and head to Victory Square. 

Drop it for today. This is important. 

I know this is fucked up. Everybody knows it 

and I know it’s such an emptiness and also 

too much to contain, and everyone is gone 

and it feels fucked up to be alive but we are.

We will gather at Victory Square, 

you know, Hastings and Cambie, at the Cenotaph, 

the big monument to the First World War, 

you know what it says:


Yeah guess so.

It is true, now, even though we said so and 

tried to warn them, people are dying everywhere, 

all over, just as we all said. It’s the National Thing. 

DTES export.

It is true, now, things are changing because of that, 

but this is a battlefield and this is chemical warfare.

We will gather at Victory Square, and go to the Courthouse 

downtown. People will call for Justice. 

Things will change, slowly. More people will die. 

This will change. War ends. You know how Wars end. 

I don’t have to say it.

When you use drugs like we do in this place, 

you get so used to nobody listening that you stop talking.

On Tuesday, speak up, because you will be heard. 

Say what you think because it has to be said.

When you use drugs, like this and in this place, 

you stop thinking about the future. 

This is about the future.

It won’t be the same.

- Karen Ward

Noon, Victory Square

≈Masticate This

Whatever then. This nest of ours holds thick
together with saliva, silkworm-worried
and strong. In TV there’s an agony
beyond us. The reality show I like
Is the one about sloths, a hour on Tuesday
When no one among us can move. What if I miss something, is the constant refrain
It’s the eighth season of MASH but the war won’t end.
Hey, it’s the ratings, stupid: eat your Kraft Dinner
With wieners mixed in, and think, think on the cheese
Not me. Hold thick together, grass and twigs,
Scraps of paper, grocery lists, all my crap poems.

Longest Dark

And thinking, what the what. Where’s Rohan gaddam? Now would be a helpful time for you know Rohan like 8000 guys who think in alliterative verse plus a woman in disguise who needs a little time to reconsider some life choices but I think she’ll be ok  (in the film yes; in the book, well, it’s very very dark. I could elaborate if anyone is interested) hey where the fuck is Rohan, wait am I Rohan? are you? did you hear that?

Ringtone (solstice gift - zip file):

very local media at the end of the drug wars

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