Organic Industrial
rusted, busted, inorganically crop-dusted
hand-made on our very own assembly-line
low-flying tear-crying, cut-rate-buying
fair-trade-priced, but still...real fine
garment sweat-shop, Tex-Mex field crop,
Civilization Inc. prophets chanting it up
workin' twelve hour days 'til you drop
drinking Cool-(Inc.)-aid from corporate cup
the ol' family farm is right in the box
ol' Bessie's mooing fer all she's worth
sounding par per share of preferred stocks
increasing quarterly statements net girth
consume we must, as our numbers grow larger
we're either counted victor or the victuals
we consume awhile or face early departure
incorporating civilization's declared rituals
how many human souls can one world hold?
how many other species get a place here too?
how can we temper our needs uncontrolled?
how can we help Mother Earth get through?
© Goode Guy 2012-02-11
Copyright © Goode Guy | Year Posted 2012
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