Metal monsters consume with hellish maw.
Spirit man adorned in primeval magic,
He fears the silence of hums and caws,
Friend of sprites, their end be tragic.
Old world dies.
Running deeper into the ancient timbers,
Where the sanctuary from the techno-beasts?
Primevals disappear — nor cry, nor whisper,
Is heard as the gluttonous grow fat at feasts.
Old world dies.
Cold the shiver as the magical recoil,
Gone the flora, the fauna and the shades,
So mines and bovines can steal their soil,
Spirit man breathes and leaves the glades.
Old world dies.
Old soil smells overpowered in onslaught,
Pesticides, fertilizers, and ozone eaters,
Spirit folk genocide unheralded, unfought,
As naiads, nymphs — so much compost fillers.
Old world's died.
2 comments:
another poem with intentionally jarring juxtaposition of the natural/mythical vs. unnatural/mechanical. i like the rhythm of the progressive stamping out of the forest beings. . .
forgive me for asking, but i'm just making sure that you meant "glutenous" (characterized by the stickiness of the wheat protein gluten) and not "gluttonous." I'm sensitive to the wording b/c of Doug's Celiac Disease (gluten intolerance) which is shared by numerous close family members.
Thank you so much Emily...you did indeed catch a gluttonous typo...
I didn't know of Doug's Celiac Disease...nor did I default to glutenous on purpose.
But thanks...
Post a Comment