How many times have I seen the secret skies
Come down to settle into uncommon intersections
Of innocent men who straddle the causeways of
Ponds and lakes, unsure of their lives, their grace
Their saving throws of incalculable malfeasance
Laid bare on tender cuts of half-frozen meat?
How shocked are we now that the oceans rise
And fires rage and trees freeze
In the swirling miasma of snow and ice
That fall from the sky?
How different are we then
From the simple unshaven cavemen
Who once roamed the verdant fields and acrid plains
Searching not for meaning, but a means to an end
And an ending with meaning?
There can be no doubt that we share their fate
Despite the phones, the internet, the advances
The technology meant to push us forward
Only to pull us backward into a swarm of primordial intellect
Screaming against the truth of our collective situation
If he could, the unshaven cavemen would laugh
At the unfettered complications and grab a spear
To hunt the elusive albino buffalo that charge
Across the sprawl of the urban decay we have made
Casting shadows into the doorways of
Pallid, paintless shopping malls
Silhouetted against a sheltering sky
Of passive blue and dotted with clouds
Unshaven caveman, what have you done?
Your every step brought us the gun