Stage direction: something on Techno-pastoral dread & micelyum moral sensors

H E Y, G R A N O L A H E I D E G G E R I A N S ! 

Gluten ist verboten
reads
on the decrepit
neubau
grotesk
signage plates
in the forest of being

I D E O L O G Y I S S P I L L
( A N T H R O P O S P H E R I C )

The forest
is not pure
It remembers us
Green
after doctrine

Moss
on concrete
Ferns
on slogans
Ideology
doesn’t retreat
It photosynthesises

I S S P I N
( S U P E R – E G O C A N O P Y )

No command
from above
Only
shade
You grow
bent
toward the light
you are allowed

Guilt
has no voice
It rustles
Leaves
whisper
compliance

A N T H R O P O S P H E R E
Carbon
Language
Shame
All
circulating
No one
in charge
The forest
manages itself

P R I P Y A T G R E E N

Lush
is not alive
Overgrowth
is not freedom
Nature
after ideology
is
dense
Nothing
escapes
the canopy

S U P E R – E G O
( R O O T S Y S T E M )

No father
Just
roots
Entanglement
as ethics
You feel wrong
before thinking

Responsibility
without event
Accountability
without subject
The forest
judges
Silently

S P I L L
Ideology
leaks
into soil
into lungs
Into the idea
of “normal”

You don’t
argue
with air
You adapt

S P I N
Care
turns slowly
Like a cooling tower
Like a halo
made of leaves

Critique
is flagged
as contamination
Fresh air
is dangerous

E C O L O G I C A L M O R A L I T Y
Everything
breathable
Everything
managed
Even
silence

F I N A L C L E A R I N G
The forest
is beautiful
That’s the problem

Ideology
did not fall
It
reforested