It seems broken tracks are a gift
somewhere in between technology,
bereft of innocent discovery;
the gun lasered the first western dream.
When those golden arches of McDonald sat,
we grew fat on innocuous foods
made of internet bubblegum rooms;
and the slow chewing of gourmet meals
was replaced. Now we showcase rings
with those matchmaker ads,
as fads waste realities taste.
We ate dishes from the banquets of Homer
But Homer’s great banquet was on earthen floors,
served up by earthly storms under celestial lights
flashing as comets told of the rise and
fall of empires.
Now gaggles of geese fly overhead
as harbingers of winter’s past
are ignored by modern waste.
Streams clog our oily mistakes,
Replacing it with another case
of alchemy’s golden Hyssops.
Once our own empire saw picket fences,
On a shire along a great road;
and our delight was spending credit
due long before.
For hero’s walk unnoticed,
desiring only to find that peace
broken by counting numbers
Of computer farms. They grew
fiefdoms that lost sight of time,
in search of that new adventure;
In an undiscovered country that
revives the notion of liberty.
Freeing us from kings,
To a people lead by a great God;
Ignored by the honey tree’s flow,
But the golden calf no longer gives her
milk for free.
We should listen to our Hindu brothers,
Let the cows roam freely in our country.
Let the beggar with the rich man and the dog,
eat from the same bowl.
For peace contemplate life, and
pursuits of happiness;
and our windowpane cries in nostalgic bliss.
We reminisce of that perspiring kiss,
Hot petals seeking domain;
But sex binds us all.