A Standard and a Drone A standard is a standard, and a drone is a drone. Well, why not throw a bomb on ... No, no! Listen to the King of the Jungle! He's a bastard, but he is our bastard, and we are too big to fail. We are cowards. We play choo-choo in the jungle. You there on the street! Is that Latin you are reading? I beg your pardon? No, the 21st. It is something new. With new names. Holy tradition, save us from the deviant! To Thee we pray, Thou art our reference. Can't there be silence in the mountains? Drip drop, drop drop, what is this sensation? Is that you? There are voices of peace in the jungle: Chick-a-dee-chack, chick-a-dee-chack, and: Cocori ho! Cocori ho! I think it means good. Did you see that cat on Facebook? What a laugh. And if it rains, we'll take a cab. Real city, your cars like petals carried on ant paths. Your night-lights fading, pointing to references. Cave paintings on the walls. We celebrate the new millenium with war. When the terrorists are killed there will be we will be everything's gonna be something's gotta be something. Trust me. A new dawn. Can you play this Beethoven again, please. Thank you. So elevating. So dead. What a relief! He would only talk back. He was not an easy man. Who are all these voices? They frighten me like ghosts. Is this seat free? I just need to sit down for a minute. Are you American? Yes, I thought so. You look so prepared for your second century. Good luck! And here is the news: Terrorists. Can we please drop this bomb now. I'm gettin' bored, sorry. Real city, the wind brings no sound. Anis Hamadeh 25 June 2013