The one call "I" considers the sky,
The Earth and the sea. What are they to me?
Far more than that swine snout of yours, "Modern Man,"
Despoiling, consuming, as fast as you can.
You Poison the lands, the air, lake, and streams.
Thus of a healthier world I must dream.
"Let gluttons be cursed and greed seen as sin!"
So we must rage at the age I live in.
Where bad is called good, violence deemed "sport."
What once were men's voices, now pig squeals and snorts.
The corrupt must be chastened, power brought low.
Those who resist, the reapers will mow.
No time for nostalgia beseeching the sky.
Pick up a pitchfork. The old ways must die.
If you 're to timid, all I can say,
Is "Join us in change, or get out of the way.
Not your Four Horsemen, a lone ass I fear:
A vile orange Satan who brings ear to ear.
In traps by the witless, a nation enmeshed,
Not by great genius, but horse shit made flesh.
Look! From the South and the Midwest they come,
To march to small hands beating a drum.
The question begs asking, to all troops around,
Is this why you signed up, to die for this clown?
What can one say of an man whose great high
Is a bucket of chicken and love he can buy.
All for the wealthy, naught for the poor,
A duped people sigh, "I thought there'd be more!"
You get what you pay for when you vote for a whore.
The End (and your end, unless you join the revolution)
YOU ARE READING
Future Haikus, Future Poems
PoetryWithout a radical transformation to sustainable living we face a tragic future. Highest ranks, #1 in Haiku Collection, #1 in Surrealism, #1 in Enlightening, #1 in Absurdity, #1 in Conceptual.
