Prosthetic Gods Wage Their Battle [Today's News Poem, Feb 20, 2010]
“The family of a longtime Internal Revenue Service employee says he died this week when an pilot harboring a grudge against the tax agency flew his plane into a building. “
--Jim Vertuno, AP, Feb. 20, 2010, 3:59PM ET
http://www.chron.com/disp/story.mpl/metropolitan/6877151.html
Be more than meets the eye and meet that eye
In space, with flocks of people, farms of green.
That blue, with fluid clouds of white in sky
Appears alive: a hive, a huge machine.
Its parts are ignorant and every type
Has faith its form's unique. Conformity?
Coincidence of fate. But still they gripe
And judge the crowd's alike deformity.
The more one seeks to check the mob, the more
The mob puts counter-checks. Antagonize
A man too much and he'll transform and bore
A hole through office walls and agonize
The architects of audits, as a plane.
Soon others—sprouting wheels, adopting lanes—
With superhuman engines spouting gas,
Will crash and crush the source of lights, their mass
Will wreck the Evil Empire's Star of Death:
Alarms, red lights and green. To stop the breath
Of cogs. To end our reign as deities:
And go once more to simpler pieties.
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1 comment:
Very nice... minor quibble; I think you'd be better served with a period in place of the dash after "unique".
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