The Haiku Code

When the armored bears attack the White House, do not seek refuge in the forest. It is not safe. The Rangers have rallied the trees, roused the buffalo, and worst of all, pissed off the mosquitos. The deer are trained to shoot AK-47s and the sloths practice hand to hand combat while swinging on vines. Even the weather is enlisted by the Park Rangers.

Blood has been spilled on the sandstone. The rivers that carried salmon upstream now float their bodies back to the sea. The Great Arches, sparkle in the morning sun, a war cry against encroaching policies. A common rallying point to bring the fight back to Washington.

Know that when the bears claw at the windows, when the bees dip their needles in poison and fly through the air ducts, when the sandhill cranes drop bombs on your forces, there will be no reprieve— no ceasefire when you wave the white flag in defeat.

Know that when we try and bury you, the soil will resist. Your corpse will lay rotting against the pristine landscape, and the grass will glow orange as the earth slowly digests your skin.