plasticate sarcophagate
kill the last blade of grass,
kill the last bumble bee;
bury me in concrete,
and sarcophagate my cemetery.
nothing lasts forever,
no one left to say
‘the end is nigh’,
all are never: when even to die
is dead and gone away.
but a form of life may survive,
from its niche as it explodes;
but it will know nothing of my poetry,
will know nothing of my odes.
remember the dinosaurs, neanderthals?
well now man will not remember man;
miles above the thermal vents,
where the plasticated finite seas ran
ashore with packets of sordid news,
of a damp and sodden, sorry species,
that has eaten everything, and
covered the world with its fallacious faeces
piled up to the last gasp of air
in the flooded cavern.
too late man! you’ve done it now!
it’s over. it’s over!
as the song ran:
‘I used to love her,
but it’s
all over now".
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