Progress - Poem by David Zvekic
Have we abandoned night?
Framed in stale aspect,
Soaring stoic above man:
Looming guardians of prosperity.
Plate glass serenity;
Hired guns and concrete.
Black gossamer strands,
Like webs (copper criss cross) , across,
Sixty cycles per second:
Progress between upturned carrion
Pires of pressure treated material
Which was once alive...
A starlit sky: now flourescent.
The horned moon obscured:
Reassurance reverbates - smog
My auditory experience will be exquisite.
Lovers' eyes on neon and lament;
Dilated pupils glaze over
In electric indifference.
Red light. Red light!
Strength in biometric ID
And moontide trash collection;
Alone in the midst of three million souls:
The hush of night suffocates;
Drowned by wailing sirens,
If I listen carefully:
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