The Only Game In Town
Starting out on the fertile plains,
Stifling, holding us down,
Like smothering glue.
Spreading – like a pandemic – quickly,
Infecting the whole planet.
Robbing us of freedom,
Inoculating us with madness,
Imposing hierarchy,
Now too late for us to ban it.
With eight billion progeny
Enslaved within the enterprise
We laughingly call progress,
We are trapped.
Worshipping the diety
Entombed in the cathedral of the WTO,
From which there is no egress.
We can only observe with mounting sadness
As the machine devours
The very earth we stand upon
Trees and creatures
Transformed into worthless cash.
With nothing left to hand on.
In goes life
Out comes plastic
Concrete and sterility.
Transforming
Life to death
The opposite of fertility.
It’s the only game in town.
Opher – 7.11.2020
When we invented agriculture we had no idea what a mess we would be getting ourselves into. We did not realise we’d be inventing kings, religions, nations, wars and money. We thought we were making life easier and more secure.
We lost our relationship with nature, our place in the cycle. We lost harmony and hope. We gained toil, debt and bosses.
The tipping point is long past. There is no return. Eight billion people cannot live as we once lived. The machine is all-consuming.
When it has devoured the planet it will consume us.