Often I feel
a growing weight of despair
for these self-endangered humans,
my timid neighbors with their ad-driven habits
assuming religious denial of their animal identity
so to believe the oxymoronic lie of humane slaughter
and therefore bless, devour, absolve, hide and ignore
any such routine acts of mass commercial killing,
conveniently including generations of family violence,
their buried trauma, sins and crimes carried nervously
through systemic schools of social class assignment
for escape to the gainful business of making money,
but fighting for dominance in wars of global slaughter,
mass-producing weapons and killers to serve and protect
the great family fortunes and their corporate empires,
plus the right of those ruling industrial entrepreneurs
with their relentless technology innovators to invent
and install automated assembly lines of loyal machines
that need never buy the products they manufacture,
but eliminate the jobs of the people who once did
as dream-inspired they drove their good-citizen trust
out onto the traffic-jammed streets and highways,
rushing breathless into the smog-shrouded cities,
on time to push their love-hate will to work and win
a bonus for consolidating everything to cash credit
with their incorporated wage & debt slave labor,
though medical science has liberated their power
to overpopulate into billions who shop and trash
nonstop 24 hours a day, 365 days a year to demand
more than a shrinking planet can provide and absorb
till every cubic mile of land, water and sky is invested
to grow and expand their economy forever upward,
and outward to conquer that unlimited space frontier
and millions cry out "Give it a rest! Give me a break!"
but only by pumping ever-more oil can the price of gas
bargain down to fuel up all those cross-country tours
and jet lag passports to inflated liesure time away
tanning with the crowds at Halogen's Melanoma Beach,
dining in or out on agri-pest-free-chemi-cancer cuisine,
back home for online trade, TV bargains and risky medicines,
their good life pictured safe in sit-coms and game shows
plus the latest hi-tech toys for self-flattering twitter,
cleverly advertised but so deep into sub-rational thought
sponge-brain appetites ferment guilty of muted complaint:
'If only I didn't love them I could play the games forever'
while incorporated doctors & pharmacies grow richly smug
practicing on that epidemic mass of terminal patients.

Yet, our nine month miracles find them
innocently putting aside their manic desires,
dark impulse enlightened by the naked faith
of so many naive souls created in birth
their cherub eyes would beguile en masse
and pacify the rabid technocidal growth
of their mortal race to escape alive -
but terror squeezes out through
each natal trauma to start
another fight to the finish
against that void of death,
from boiling water to ampicillin,
killing germs of flesh and dirt
where mutant rebellions impend
with every breath and touch,
every kiss and thrust.

But few dare to see
their good sense imprisoned
inside this network of happy delusions
created and managed by wealthy class gamblers
who play everyone for fools and dismiss the World
to poverty, gluttony, ecocide and final extinction,
their predatory instincts triumphant to the last
nurturing their own delusions of elite survival,
even now when the truth is made clear
by modern medical retentions of life
revealing agonic tunnels to light
where beyond this physical trap
waits a realm of love
without fear.

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John Talbot Ross