Suehiro Maruo
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California
It had been a year.
A very long and painful year.
I thought I could survive you and your Los Angeles.
I was wrong.
To a degree I can sustain your fires but the embers that drift for miles and miles beyond where I stand continue to flourish and cause more chaos. Your citizens are over-crowded and under-appreciated. It’s dog eat dog for the dead mans meat. No regards to how rotten it is; meat is meat, and we all are hungry.
I can no longer chew on desert-dry bones.
This place is a giant sarcophagus. A potters field. A land devoid of anything lively or rich. You are deadlier than the desert.
buried-indust
