the tides are empty nowadays
they say the fish all went away
and on the ground the ants encircle
pulling each other to watery graves
we dream of the suppressor
the tranquilizer the appeaser
but nothing wipes the anguish
shepherds delight this evening
the sheep are free to marvel
no stick no dog to guide them
their coat a matted memory of life enchained
they graze what’s left among scorched earth
battered rubble broken glass
cracked tongues weed toxic grass from toxic dirt
and with each meagre strand a silent solace comes
we the people sit around and watch the skies with dread
though nothing falls these days
the dread remains
the birds left long ago
we hope they’re happy now
eyes fixed on clouds
on poisoned rain that falls
we wait for god to come
the canines comb through dirt for meal
as do we
the sky ablaze with fire
we wonder streets of parched concrete
some roots push through asphalt sierras
and nature’s grip did not relent
and on the tides ride plastic sheets
that wash up on the shore
then sucked back out then in again
in no-man’s land of earth and sea
and we watch on from camp
and what of those above the skies?
anecdotes abound
like many things
but surely some must have escaped
some say they saw the rockets
darting off on dust's ascent
but some say many things
for surely the rich and the mighty
would scurry off like rats on ship
direction proxima centauri b
some such theorized stable of life
probably still on their way
floating cosmic breadth in frozen tubes
like godly pigs in line for golden trough
their mansions lay now sacked on hills
overrun by radioactive wolves
while we watch the tides and stars
lucky us! that’s what some say
lucky us!
we lay and watch as plastic rolls on tides
and lucky us!
we still have each other
better than being frozen up there in one of those ships
we roam the woods
in search of a deeper self
in hope of finding once more what it is to be human
but there is little left of woods
and what’s left is home to wolves
ferocious and proud
so back we come to the beach
at city’s edge
and we watch the sheets of plastic rolling in
at night we sit around the fire
tell stories of the times before
and times to come
of green gods in sky
of wolves in mansions
and there is nil to do these days
but sit and wait for death to come
if it’s for us to cry for them
then who is left to cry for us
what’s new what’s new what’s new
the world unchanged we wait and wait
as plastic sheets roll up and in
for new gods and demons
and what might it resemble
new world new air new voice
these new gods new demons
our bones submerged for study
by these new gods new demons
we hope they show us sympathy
for there is no one left to cry for us