Run Down And Run Over Poem by shimon weinroth

At the end of the glen there is a den for ten,
we never really know, what's done, will grow,
reap and harvest,
hung up, rejected killed and disconnected

The line went dead, mishap of electronics.
desire to refrain, acted out of sorts
self aborted, socialy retarded
run over by electronics

Orphaned by today, with no right to sky
Jay-walked into a computer, dismembered
rearranged by statistics, transplants and
genetic engineering, unrecognized in this
grave new world, only TV rulers are cloned