tell me about your holy cows
your gigabyte ram ram mantra
your exponents of exponential growth,
your markets that rise and fall by the whim of small gods
trading the gdp of vast countries in africa and lives lived brutal
in deep tunneled earth for something shiny
with a touchscreen and planned obsolescence.
tell me this is the meaning and purpose of your life
and i will tell you about the stars that live dark sky expanses
sung soft-feather nightjar on nights too big to hold your breath to.
stars that still live by their light alone,
planets that still dance by the warmth of our small sun.
and yes – some nights they keep company with the marching apocalypse
of sky junk that draw lines of his and his and his across the sky –
but we are all of the one mother for we all partake of this one breath
and the tides that rise and fall by the sway of the moon, rise and fall for all of us.
and all the billions of the billionaires of this world –
all their pockets full of greed and fists full stolen,
will still be paid to the same ferryman in the end
and the stars
and the stars
and the stars
will still live by their light alone –
holy holy as the night.
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