How to reveal the impotence of monetary units
to bud and flower from vernal twig and stem,
or unmask the pretense of saw mills converting
the forest to billions of green paper leaves
that somehow fail to regulate the rains,
secure the soil and manage the floods,
and what to say of cold concrete dams and levees
when rivers, denied their seasonal rite of overflowing,
deliver no fresh silt to nearby farms and gardens
whose massive chemical green harvest so misfeeds
already malnourished life-stylish minds
their mod magazine cities beckon fools and thieves
to swarm and fill each glittering negative energy vacuum,
speeding the approach of spell-bound traffic till,
slowed by the mass of their own malignant air,
they join the oxygen poor grasping to hold on
to these elusive green counterfeits of life,
power-bait dangled by omniverous marketplaces
where published poets dare not express a doubt
for fear of some accidental recognition
that family, friends and neighbors die drugged
to the pain of their own terminal prosperity,
wondering how it all could have come to this,
(in extremis for want of trees and dirt???)

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John Talbot Ross