Bellies Full of Plastic

There is no hope of a better future,

stop listening to the optimistic TV newscasters.

We are not going to save the world

we are nothing more than a cancer

making planet earth sick.

There is no God, so I don’t pray

but if I prayed, I would pray

for earth’s immune system

to strengthen enough

to rid itself of us.


The thing about cancer, or any disease

is that it doesn’t realize that it is a disease

cancer does not know that it is cancer.

If it could think, it would think

that it was the most important thing

to ever exist in the universe.

We think this.

We are cancer

we are aids

we are the plague

we are cholera

killing a million in Yemen

we are war and famine

killing a billion more

we are the rich

shitting on the poor

we are ‘civilization’

we are gold-rushing west

we are progress

we are oceans filled with radiated plastic

lining the bellies of dead whales

and dead dolphins

and dead sharks

and dead fish.

We are knotted fishing nets

strangling sea turtles

and monk seals

and walruses


and we are the egg man

feeding chickens and cows hormones

and we are the businessman

digging mines in fields of old bones.

We are mountains, polluted

we are streams, and rivers, and harbors,


we are old growth forests


we are progress

we are rotting eggs in the eagles nest

we are hawks, and doves, and seagulls

and pigeons, and crows


with bellies full of plastic

we are squeezing blood out of a rock

and pumping it straight into our veins.


Our lifeblood is poison

we are poison

we are poisoning everything

everything we see

everything we touch

and as if that weren’t enough

we are cannibals

we eat humanity,

deep fried

with history on the side, forgotten

as we rain death

on a dozen nations

and even now that our Caesar

is openly a Nazi

we are still buying the Zyklon B, willingly

as we have long been

ever since the taxman

first came for our bread

and we have lost count of the dead

and if we ever had a soul

we sold it too long ago to remember

and we still pray to the ember

that long ago burned out

from back when we first figured out

how to start a fire

and we convinced others

that there was a god

and that we could talk to him

and that he told us earth was ours

and everything on it was at our disposal.


We are sick.

Our bellies are full of plastic.

Our veins are full of poison.

Our life runs on death

and we are death, the destroyer of worlds.

We are Vishnu transforming.

We are Oppenheimer at Trinity.

About soitgoes1984

I was born and raised on land stolen from the Pocumtuc. I now live on a small island in the middle of the Pacific ocean, on land that was stolen more recently, from the Hawaiians. I am addict, struggling to kick the habit of fossil fuel. This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License.
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