So now,
prosperity itself is a curse
beyond all economic devising,
past eleven at hour the twelfth
our spinning planet cannot reverse
the panic forbidding, fact despising
science advisors off a company shelf
with soothing lies to doctor and nurse
for g.m. pesticide farmers surmising
its only a chronic cold, nothing else
just a curable cancer no worse
than if bio-disaster was so surprising
it appeared to arrive by stealth,
human character for what it's worth
desperately needed revising,
all ego-centered in neurotic self,
driven to trash its mothering Earth
by genius tech "forever" contriving
this rabid demand for shrinking wealth
wins desert soil for exploding birth
of health care costs forever rising
with our healthy growing economies
so richly fed by the poor oppressed
now beget all these dying ecologies,
though politicians keep on advising
conserve, recycle, expand, re-invest,
let no radical eco-loser interrupt
as our money goes right on disguising
this final conflict of interest -
the fate of our species neatly wrapped up,
such a long beginning to ending abrupt?

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John Talbot Ross