Crammed in like matchsticks –
Boxes into boxes
Filling every corner
Driving out the life
Swatting the flies
With a pot plant on the mantle.
In cars careering into the future
On mopeds with dreams of cars
In pursuit of progress.
Providing food upon the table.
Marching purposefully along pavements
With minds nicely contained
And dreams restricted
Sitting in front of screens
In offices with air-conditioning
So that they do not have to think
In boxes within boxes
And avoiding thinking about the box
They will all end up in.
What a shame.
There are too many of us destroying everything, reducing the beauty to rubble, creating wasteland out of wilderness, producing rubbish and consuming the world.
Too much filth, grime and litter. Too much smoke and gas. Too many kids.
We travel in boxes and live in boxes shut away from the natural world and are fed the views we are to assume. We are controlled, organised, restricted and contained.
There is a homage to Malvina Reynolds in here too. I do adore Malvina.
I wrote this before I travelled through Asia again and witnessed the tsunami of humanity that is engulfing the planet. It is far more destructive than any wave of any magnitude.
It leaves me full of dread on many levels.