Hope You Like Surrogates Poem by Patti Masterman

The big drums are starting up outside:
Maybe the spirits of ancient Indian chiefs
Pissed off that their inheritance has been slowly drained away
Or woodland spirits dismissive
Of the appearance that modern day has taken on:
Where once were hills and valleys, springs and sanctuaries
Now a concrete veldt stands, unsupportive of life
Holding in all the heat like a cooking griddle for giants
And all the creatures long for a breeze and a mist
A cool after the long, still burning of summer
But after rain comes the jungle of humidity
Just breathing causes torpor and inertia:
Napping and eating, sleeping and breeding-
The organism takes so much just to maintain:
How did we ever find the time to destroy nature's cradle
While we were building a virtual world to inhabit instead?