KINGDOM OF PLASTIC Waves rolling, stagnant in the wind, Filled with immortals drifting. Vessels, packaging from far distant ports, Forming hills, mountains, lands. An age everlasting, a world now discarded, Born from the blood not the fruit.
Daniel Matters
These rivers ran slow, though never to their end, From pumps, new blood was produced, Now found in forests of iron and stone, Shaded in smoke and in smog Where the gas and the oil are cut, shaped and stamped Into idols of the era they began. Yet the ocean of wrecks builds ever greater, Wrapped with the other undead. Bones of the earth hardened in fire, Grains of the desert now jewels. Together their kingdom, watched by white dragons, lasts forever unbreaking. For the dead cannot die, cannot rot, only linger, Reminders of need and of waste. Our salvation, the worm that waxes and wanes, May stomach what decades would take. For in the end it’s by their hands That the kingdom of plastic decays.
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