What Friday sloucheth toward us?

Wide open spaces

sprawling out on suburban places

with auto-power its enabling basis:

that's the fossil fuel game

that climate-bangers insist we blame

for dragging earth into carbon-cluded shame.



The dead, recycled dinosaur

now pumped up from some ancient shore

soon supplies yon stripmall store

with miles of aisles of essential stuff--

piles of styles that are more than enough

to transform this world to soft, from what was rough.



So far we've come from them rugged days

when grampa's calloused hands found ways

to plow the prairies, while cattle graze.

And yet, somewhere in the world today

a farmer still drives the beast; he plows all day.

But here, strewn-out drivers glide away



from the greening world as once we knew it.

This fair and fertile land--we now eschew it;

now we transform it, as in olden days we grew it.

Yea, our trend-setting, charged-up superstore

that drives consumption from shore to shore--

so soon replays the dinosaur.



Glass Chimera

Dinosaur Ozymandius

Dinosaur, oh dinosaur, what happened to you?

Did you get stuck in the mud?

Did you fall with a thud?

Did you get bogged in a bog?

Did you get lost in the fog?

Dinosaur, oh dinosaur, what now will you do?



Boomer, oh baby boomer, what's happening to you?

Are you mired in routine?

Are you caught in between

being red, blue, or green?

Did you get old while caught up in the dream?

Boomer, oh baby boomer, what now will you do?



Worker, oh worker, what has happened to you?

Are you still working, are you doing full-time?

Or are you in that frumpy unemployment line?

Have you lost your top dollar, waiting on a dime?

Did you do some retraining to buy you some time?

Worker, oh worker, oh what now will you do?



Yuppie, oh yuppie, what's up with you?

Did you hook up with prosperity?

Did you pair up with some parity?

Did you give some to charity?

Or Is your generosity a rarity?

Yuppie, oh yuppie, you know what to do.



Person, oh person, now what will you do?

now that the many has fizzled to few,

now that the few has dwindled to you,

now that the turning has turned round to you,

do you know what to do, do you see what is true?

Maybe it's not, after all, all about you.

Smoke