THIS PERFECT DAY

THIS PERFECT DAY   

Sometimes I wish that I was blind
To the beauty of this Earth.
It hurts to see such majesty
Despised and without worth.

Sometimes I wish that I was deaf
To the siren-song of Ocean.
Despoiled womb, humanity's doom.
Toxicity in motion.

I wish that I could lose my mind.
Understanding without standing
My lone voice with little choice
Grown hoarse and undemanding.

We live in Levin's  'Perfect Day'
Our drugs arriving sight unseen
Make Room!  Make Room for the Earth's doom.
Passively consume our Soylent Green.

© Susan E Birch  -  2014