NUCLEAR NUTCRACKERS

 Does everyone's heart have to be a looted treasure house?! They stretch out their miserable hands: they would still beg to survive. Because now it means being an outcast and tolerated stranger, those who have everything, often get Everything. More and more people are eager for what can be further divided, but indivisible, real feelings - even if they wanted to - cannot be divided. The World can no longer help; it only shakes and thunders. 

On the golden wood chips of the crusting dawns, like chronic drunkards, commoners go to work, hanging in balanced trembling on both sides of the Paths of Being; petty, treacherous thieves, vile scoundrels, while on the other side, strawman little kings laze around, babbling to their heart's content. Before the total blackout, one or two powers are still tossing a continent's worth of nuclear walnuts among themselves; they could even play football with them. Because it is better to exist retreating within the walls of the shell-solitude than to bleed to death there involuntarily. Man now fills his mind with waxy slowness; the ghost-clock still experiments with tired heartbeats, echoing midnight. 

A long-overdue, suspended sentence has begun to slip away, halfway between the ribbons of the Milky Ways, all the permanent emptiness called cosmic is already deepening. Peacock divas with a wild apple-tree smile are blaring on the channels of tabloid media in order to generate profitable profits. The expectation that is deliberately falling on deaf ears is stimulated by a honey-glazed word of promise, but all of them?!

 Crazy claws would scrape the flesh of the average person, even if they allowed themselves to be gutted and sucked out; more and more, they are raising old-timers, dwarf predators, to their own liking, who - at an early age - can even become sharks if they are not careful enough.