The Pasture
I once had a pasture to walk in
that felt like it was all mine
It was the perfect place to
rid my head of the demons
and their restless chatter
I shared the pasture
with only the cows
and that was OK
because I have been
trained to ignore their
inevitable death
for my
cheeseburger
I would run or walk
and gaze at the ocean
or the mountains
because we have both here
(I know isn’t that crazy?)
I would wonder aloud
how I came to be 2,500 miles
from another piece of land
and then another 2,000
from my family
But then one day
the cows were gone
and I heard the
Brum brum brum brum
of the diesel
combustion stroke
My pasture became
a dirt road
that became
an asphalt road
that became
fifty large trucks
entering and exiting every day
wielding tools
that made the dogs bark
and the children cry
Thwack thwack thwack
Thump thump thump
the sounds of humans
progressing on the earth
The grazing pasture
became future memory containers
that sell for $600,000
and we call “affordable housing”
But it seems the only thing
they are affording
are the landowners
a new mansion or Tesla
or pasture
to thump thump thump
more progress
into our earth
But I get it,
this is necessary
… without growth
Wall Street collapses
without growth
we may even call for a new
President
since his 20,000 lies
haven’t been enough
But that goddamn pasture
that I used to walk in
I miss it
Because you can always turn a
pasture into something else
But once it’s something else
it can never
be a pasture
ever
again.