Just a Cycle

May 7 ·

JUST A CYCLE

Come..

Sit with me..

On a visit to this sacred site..

A little grass,

A patch of grass..

Saved for the human race.

We'll sit and eat our processed meal,

Pretend it's from those days forgotten

Of baby veal.

That's better than the real..

Of the extremely rude,

Extremely crude..way of living.

So much better to pretend, Isn't it?

Take a sip of your bottled water..

Cleaned in the finest distillation..methods

passed from generation upon generation..

And we'll pretend,

Pretend it tastes just like the sparkling water in our imagination..

of what the writings mean in describing..

Ahhh, the beauty of the sunlight reflecting..

off the springs flowing from mountain tops.

Pure and clean,

Not the kind we harvest with machines,

From condensation or from the sheening moisture

of our own body's perspiration.

Let's pretend this is real fruit,

And not processed dirt..

with nutrients and colors added.

Let's pretend the world is fine..

Not living on borrowed time..

And we'll toast all those that came before us..

The intelligent..

The negligent..and,

The inelegant..way in which they allowed our world to end..

Fighting over the last penny..

But enough!

Let us raise a glass,

and pretend that..

Ours is an infinite planet..

In an infinite universe..

And this too..

Shall pass!