Extracting Value, Creating Wastelands
There’s hardly any value
In that which is burnt
Sacrificed to the great vacuum,
To appease it, by its servant
The nomeus, the pastor
Each head a walking strip
Of earth, a plot
To seize and squeeze
All value from,
Extracting this —
Valere, to be well — and so
Just leaves it sick, stripped
Abandoned as waste
Advancing the state
Of the Nomos