Protomartyr
- Don't go to Anacita
Against the sea, a hidden incorporated town that glows like zircon in a fire its straight white streets. They crawl with consumers and their dogs, migrant workers tend the transplant poplars. The liberal-minded here, they close their eyes and dream of technology and kombucha. The anti-vagrant system sounds like 20 dollar bills being sorted in a counter. Don't go to Anacita! They got their goon squads on patrol! Don't go to Anacita! They're gonna throw you in a hole!
Protomartyr
- Half Sister, verse 1
In ancient Palestine, a Roman middle manager dresses down a radical, "I have a backlog of so-called prophets you are of a multitude." The offender said, "I witness truth." Perplexed and filled with pique, the jailer replied, "Truth, what is it?."
