Cellular phones, FAX machines,
radio waves, electricity:
a man-made nervous system
of organic complexity.
Bricks and cement, chimneys,
and carbon units, tiny,
structure and life-force
of this growing and breathing atrocity.
The working force, bones and muscles,
in psycho-sexual captivity,
provide the strength, aimed by others
toward worldwide sterility.
Bankers and stockbrokers,
in monstrous voracity,
decide the needs of consumers
who watches their TV.
Contractors and builders,
in diesel motricity,
construct and expand
their beehive city.

Part 2

Anaesthetized soul,
the new death of me.
Ravaged and plundered,
dreaming of a blue city.
Wonder who its gonna be,
you or me ?
So for now it’s all concrete,
tainted glass and putrid power schemes,
and the fossil fuelled monsters,
speeding forth to oblivion,
roaming shadowy ill smelling streets,
and the gutter dwelling mutants,
flesh of the Undercity,
prays to our subhuman leaders,
flashing on prime-time TV.

Epilogue

Pounding rhythms, echoing beats
and the fading hope of a dying dream.
The ancient memory
of bygone joys and feasts,
from which we were led away
according to this monstrous scheme.
We really could have made it
to this fabled city,
if we were only smart enough
to outrun our own stupidity.
A sensual palace of heavenly weedling,
a universal romance, a perpetual well being;
the celestial temple, heralded by the few,
the awaited completion of the cycle we knew,
the twilight of an age of torment and fury,
but we’re all still in hell as far as I can see.