Here am I, low at the bottom of the water,
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green and brown, shit stained stones, water flows
currents strong as love toss apart the burps of sweeping,
my heart is in this cleaning, my children are in this weeping.
For, I am the sword in the stone, the new song.
The bubbles rush out of these dirty depths, and burst
these currents above, they move with the swiftness of wind
careless to my duties. I stare at you, and disappear.
Laughing, I sweep my own away from trouble,
screaming, i birth my child,
a new song, a new song, anew. Freshened, I bear bad tidings.
The currents sweep them away on their path.
These little bubbles, burst each, laughing.
Hear me, my dark and deadly serpents,
the river is dirty. The rivers are dirty.
Then there is darkness,
a new song,
so few who heard it.
"If the America people ever allow private banks to control the issuance of their currencies, first by inflation and then by deflation, the banks and corporations that will grow up around them will deprive the people of all their prosperity until their children will wake up homeless on the continent their fathers conquered." ~Thomas Jefforson