The Good Guys

The Good Guys are building concentration camps in Rafah and massacring civilians trying to obtain food. The Good Guys are circling the planet with hundreds of military bases and telling us we're not allowed to oppose genocide. Yesterday I saw a little girl playing and I thought how nice it is that she has all her limbs and that she is not lying still covered in gray dust while her father screams and cries and calls out to God while trying to kiss her back to life. The world is changed now. The moon is covered with powdered buildings. The pigeons are weeping and the wind sounds like drones. Sometimes I cough and gray dust comes out. Sometimes it's a child's shoe. There's a dead donkey lying in my backyard that nobody wants to talk about. The Australians chat about real estate investments and how you can knock down one house and replace it with two houses and then make believe that neither house smells like corpses. The news man tells us the corporations are just dumping the products directly into the Pacific now while clinging tightly to the edge of the screen so the black hole doesn't pull him in. Everything's fine, the news man yells, and the system is working perfectly. We are the Good Guys after all. We are, after all, the Good Guys. Reading by Tim Foley.