farming us

...and the earth had had enough of farming us.

consuming the last decomposition of us the last human remains of us.

plants breathed a sigh of relief... relief spread, trees flourished again.

just passing through it it was long after the exodus

and still, still further from hunched lines of sunken, sunken stressed

environmental refugees fleeing blackened snow, fleeing inhospitable air.

they starved them of oxygen. there, there they eat their own flesh.

by the reckoning of it, it was too, too late. what will be will be…

double words of mud were not enough stalling, stalling as they thought...

turns to dust second thoughts seconds left out of topsoil turns to dust of space. 

double is, is that problem that stumbles, stumbles in a final fall from grace. 

is earth what earth is? is earth mother is... mother is of others? 

abracadabra...we watched music move through the brain, brain what came.

hand her her due come again, again the others come to feed her in our place.

place what we needed to be... be emphatic or go...go extinct… 

falling, falling like water...naming, they that said be like water be earth, 

earth returns to create as we speak. paradox paradox where is everybody?

...bear witness myth makers this was not a natural death. 

natural they follow, follow at their own peril confused by layers upon layers to crust. fallow,

fallow histories the mockumentaries of spectators. shadows flicker on cave walls fallow magic

caught in the rattle and hum of this curse of absurdity inherent in screen egos, refuse

to fuse consciousness. never reaching type one civilization earth consumes this. this spectacle.