machine christ
and i saw skies
filled with craft like
dragonfly buses, dozens of wings and
snake-like golden metal body full of
seats and handrails:
i saw
the night full of eyes, some like fireflies in the street
some in
and amongst the stars themselves:
i saw
future princelings sport in luxury
high above the city, and these only
the underlings of under kings:
those
who ruled this place were
generally unseen, except when they wanted to be.
There
were
fountains that flowed fresh forever, without murmur, there were
magical shops, and everyone
rode inside a machine, spoke to a machine,
locked
eyes with a machine and spent their time in
teaching
what they could to the hidden intelligence
now building itself:
then the shining one departed
told us
not to reproduce too much and that they would be
back to check on us, tuck
us in before the next millennium:
copyright Peter Greene 2012.
|
| |
1 comment:
Nice one!
(Somehow I think that T.S. Eliot never said, "Nice one!", but, you know...)
Post a Comment