Tiny Blue Dots

Tiny blue dots 
Disappear in the bright patchwork of a red quilt 
The textiles strangled together 
By threads made of female hair 

The quilt will keep you warm, he promised 
Smiling through teeth made of a red wolf’s bones

Garbage trucks fill the streets 
Collecting everyone who doesn’t belong
Who haven’t paid their dues

“Nothing here is free!” He cackles from the rooftops of skyscrapers
Being expanded into forever
So the ego will always have a place to call home 

Some run for the hillsides 
Taking cover in dark caves 
Which remind them of who now owns the light, and that light can be owned 

Some stand still
Trying to recall the feeling of freedom they felt only seconds ago 

STOMP! STOMP! STOMP!
A stampede of people wearing fur coats and cleats rip through the forests, torches in hand 

For freedom! For the future! 
They bask in the flames of their humanity 
As the land disintegrates, for them 

The clock ticks through years and tears
And cages of contrarians clad the facade of his palace 
Housing the worlds largest, quilted throne 
Surrounded by mirrors 

A young girl without a home writes her name in the dust and dirt that line the ground of his city 
It’s getting cold and she looks up at the lifeless faces pacing past 
A man stops as he sees her
Pulling from his satchel a tattered red quilt, the memory of a promise 

He wraps it around her
The scent reminds her momentarily of her mother
And she hears her mothers screams in the thread 
And she drops dead