Currency By Dian Million From Green Anarchy #11 watching our blood its journey into plasma bags laying still on tables hearing the coughs and restless movements of people bleeding for the seven dollars which sends us out again able to face looking for something this deep red fluid that propels our hearts war is money the blood spilled to the earth blood appearing suddenly with no warning from wounds that we inflict on one another the blood is the currency by which we trade our destinies propels some to be takers on this world where racial memories are named for the taker: Sand Creek Bosque Redondo Auschwitz Cape Town the lives we remember individually from the wars fought for money to run strip mining take the land erase entire peoples. No one left untouched yet some remain silent not told that our blood is currency that for seven dollars or for seven billion it will never buy one thing back.