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
