The Predator
The eagle soared through the crimson sky,
And watched the people bellow.
With a million eyes it combed the skies,
The creatures were on the go.
It watched them play it watched day after day,
And loaded its memory discs.
It listened to phones. It knew you were alone.
And even your shopping list.
It watched every move, like a game of cards,
But it always knew your hand.
It knew all your parts it knew your lonely hearts.
The Who was your favorite band.
Less sugar than spice, it was not very nice,
And the truth, I’m sorry to say,
There was no place to run when the day was done,
If you ever got in its way.
The eagle was not made by God,
It was a cold machine of war.
 The miracle of flight, man takes to the sky.
And its out of sight, and like a God.
He also travels the night,
And becomes a bird of prey,
And believes he has the right,
To turn the men to ghosts.
And put out the light.
But he hunts his brothers down.
 We’ve identified the target.
We’re out of range.
Permission to approach the target.
Arming all weapons.
The lawyer has approved the target.
We’ve locked on target.
Fire at will.
Who the fuck is Will?
foot note : The image behind the clear antique glass church window is an American flag.   The image reflected in the glass is a tree.
Liquid Sky ‘n’ Flag - Williamsboro, N.C. August, 2007