The Red Kyoto Button
The world caresses icy newspapers while the rainforests lament clenches human barren dreams evaporating in desert capitals.
The cry of hurricanes knocks on govenment doors delivers dead birds for presidential terror cells.
Everywhere darkness gloved hands that grip pretense except for the guy in grey suit who inside a purple light bulb cooks up a solar dream for sleepless monsters eyeing a red Kyoto button unsure whether pressing it will blow up Kyoto Accords or the world.
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