Devastation

The trees, the trees, they're taking them down!
Deciduous hunks, short and huge, loll on the park grass
Like so many hogs, white disc ends crying
Their disconnected, silent cries

Whatever is green, rooted in past's rich loam
They attack and topple and chop up
Be it family, town, church, country
Disallowing continuance, elongation, heritage

They pull apart brother from sister and mother
And father from all with their accelerant demands
Cuttings and sawings and dispersions
Destroying what is planted, full-term, over-shading

Run there, get that, achieve, insure, equal, outshine
Why not put Aristotle's children in their place since they
Love ordering, dividing? Slot them in a robot slot
And go home human, unchopped and venerable

--- Michael Crowe