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Back To: The Tyranny of Materiality
To keep from falling asleep
in the jungle, just listen for
the jingle and the jangle,
the gush that breaks the hush of the lush green . . .
It's not your sister with a blister
screeching at her mister,
nor is it a minister turned sinister
wishing for a calm zephyr, yet discovering a twister
. . .
Perhaps you've had too much to drink . . .
What did you think of the sunset so irrationally pink?
Did you wink and think you could slink
away – not becoming part of the link?
lies, lies . . .
you insist on driving your car far,
never fixed the leak on the antique
sink, and with a blink complain of the stink
of garbage crawling with mice and lice –
though today you made the heap twice as deep!
The green height within and out of our sight
has been attacked by a blight that is not right:
as the night glows more bright
and the day lets in too much light,
walking fools must unite and begin to fight
the plight of this tarnished orb
that is so unique, she grows more weak
with each passing week, so we must speak and seek
a solution for this bleak doom.
As the future does loom
we must change our technique,
become oblique, we have reached our peak.
I would hate to sneak a peek at tomorrow
to discover a Global tomb.
– 6/6/92