Cattle Cars

 

The smile in the eyes

fades away

like the daylight

behind thick clouds

of alienation and neglect.

Bought and sold,

the farm animals

begin to turn feral

in the grey light

of an oppressive Spring sky.

Solemn where they used to sing.

Anesthetized where they used to dance.

Fit for the violent throes

of bloodlust and ecstasy,

but no longer

lovers of the sounds of songs.

Craving the opiate sway of culture

and entwined with the synthetic,

no more voices rise above

the clattering sounds

of the cattle cars.

Their eyes strange, now.

Detecting light

in some infernal spectrum.

Assigning heroes for demons,

and nightmares

to walk in consciousness.

Are we even awake?

Do we see anything more

of this sickened and pale landscape

from the thin cracks

in our boxes,

as they bump and clatter

down the rails?

 

 

HG – 2022

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