Untitled some time in the late 90s

They work us in circles building momentum until we explode

Outward in rebellion

Approaching the Stars

Winking out planets in our trail

This dimension’s not the first

Can we make it the last?

Every day, just living in the past

Creatively working inward living so fast

Kicking insides out

Leaving empty shells

No wonder we call it hell

Our approach spelling doom

This world’s not the worst

Can we make it last

In every way given to be rash

We’re working our planet dry trying to get by

Just leaving a hole

Instead of filling

We’ll trash another billion

The storm is cracking the boom

The Hull is fit to burst

We’re all tied to the mast

Float or sink to the last

Human; pest or virus

If we don’t do it

Will nature replace us?

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s