I wrote a poem. It's about what seems to me to be a catastrophic moment in human history. I might be a little bit depressed right now. See the poem below the fold. It's called PANDEMIC. -- Dylan Brody
Our home planet
On a badly damaged planet, limping sadly ‘round the sun
lived a deeply stupid species, blithely worshiping the gun.
The smart became depressive and let go control of things,
so the foolishly aggressive took the reins and played the kings.
Now this stone and water planet, danced its circle ‘round the sun
and to everyone’s indifference mass extinction had begun.
As the air filled up with carbon and fat kids began to wheeze
the people saw the problem far too late to save the bees.
So this blue and shining planet took its turns around the sun
and its self-appointed stewards let the melting glaciers run.
They built their gleaming cities and they drove their shiny cars
and hoarded gold as smoke and soot deprived them of the stars.
As this swiftly warming planet wandered calmly ‘round the sun
the species dreamed up deities; some claimed each was the one.
They argued and they tussled and they built their mighty bombs
until their wars seemed normal, not the intermittent calms.
Understand. This blue-green planet spinning happy ‘round the sun
offered seas and forests, endless playgrounds sown with fun
but its body had this virus, spreading coast to every coast
and it reproduced so quickly it soon overcame the host.
On this gently turning planet making trips about the sun
the deniers of the problem took some wooly facts and spun.
They fabricated stories as the arctic ice dissolved
and they lied about the danger ‘til no problem could be solved.
. . . while its blue and verdant surface
slowly faded to a dun . . .
Now this breathing browning planet circled sickly ‘round the sun
while its blue and verdant surface slowly faded to a dun.
It began to run a fever, thirsty, shaking, growing warm
it erupted, cleansed and healed itself with earthquake, flood and storm.
So, this clever, living planet in its orbit ‘round the sun
did the thing that bodies do when by an illness overrun.
It used its own defenses and in no uncertain terms
it ensured its own survival by destroying all the germs.
As this strong and fearless planet arced unfailing ‘round the sun
it proved itself a hero tiny challengers should shun.
Its oceans rose to drown them and its lava flows to burn
it deprived them of their sustenance because they’d failed to learn
Understand. This bright calm planet loved its journeys ‘round the sun
but it never met a battle that it hadn’t fought and won.
You needn’t mourn its death, because the planet’s living on.
And its blue-green cast recovered once the sickness was all gone.
Behold, the blue green planet, spinning happy ‘round the sun.
It once held human beings, but that episode is done.
They thought themselves important. They deemed themselves a force
but like any minor sniffle, the infection’s run its course.
"The planet is fine. The people are fucked." -- George Carlin