Poetry – It Kills

It Kills

Every road,

                   Every house,

                                      Every meal,

Every spray,

                   Every baby,

                                      Every dream,

                   Kills.

We clear,

                   We disinfect,

                                      We clean,

We cut,

                   We shoot,

                                      We butcher,

                   We live.

The only things that will eventually prosper

          Are the microbes.

Due to all our feats and efforts

They will inherit

The Earth.

Opher 3.4.2019

Everything we do adds to the entropy of the universe. Everything kills.

We seem intent on wiping out all the creatures we can. Those we don’t eat, or keep as pets, we destroy.

We hunt for fun and spray for profit.

A hundred years from now there may not be a single wilderness or wild animal.

A thousand years from now the earth may be the home for bacterial sludge.

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