1.
Perched high on the cliffs of Energy Descent,
8 billion lacerated hands thrust towards the volatile sky
(willing to steal even the moon's tender glow
from the watery eyes of their children).

Human locusts,
terrified by the diminishing returns of technology,
begin to unravel and consume the earth's thin blue blanket:
steadily disassembling each graceful component
to the massively thumping cadence of a universal heartbeat.

The crunch and whirl of our rapacious clockwork eyes
signifies the simplest truths:
technology is not energy, and exponential growth
is always followed by the coal black ash of burnt carbon.

2.
Oh, how the planet itself seemed infinite to the clever
baby makers. How the earth's ancient fossil sunlight seemed like
a permanent gift from the cosmos.

Oh the petty blindness of human invention,
of this DNA-replicating consciousness,
where every action is tied directly to its stealthy,
unforeseen consequences.

Somehow, we did not know:
when you leave each bridge you cross in flames,
soon you will have nowhere to go.

3.
We react with teardrops of feigned innocence,
of righteous ignorance,
of disgust for this brutally logical universe.

So now,
the world contracts.

Now,
energy flows diminish;
human hubris begins to crumble
and the only path forward lies
in powering down and
tending the earth
like the newborn children
we shouldn't be having in the first place
(but try telling that to our mindless DNA).

Human locusts,
terrified by the diminishing returns of technology,
begin to unravel and consume the earth's thin blue blanket:
steadily disassembling each graceful component
to the massively thumping cadence of a universal heartbeat.

Somehow, we did not know:
when you leave each bridge you cross in flames,
soon you will have nowhere to go.

11/06/2008

Posted on 11/06/2008
Copyright © 2026 Tom Goss