“Progress” (Tracy Anderson)

Streams have been bottled,
promises spoon fed to each
young and stunted crop.

Suns tucked in behind
false hope and security
blankets of dull haze.

Babies bred dry now,
never to nurse from the breasts
of test tube mothers.

Everyday we gulp
nutrient enriched, tightly
packaged, man-made dreams.

Oceans work harder,
tides cleanse dirty, broken shores,
while we search for shells.

Forests are cut back,
trained to accept new pathways,
used to build boxes.

We press our buttons,
worry about the weather
from behind glass walls.

Hiding from the sun,
we reach for a light that stays
just beyond our reach.


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