The Ironic Age

from Change in the Wind

The Ironic age is man made, I say

and we are in an age of plenty, where

everything is measured,

Four

and so everything can be managed.

The 'bag of mostly water'

walks the surface of the moon,

and our ambassador drones scour planets

Eight

for life forms, that we have not already eaten.

Earth is being terraformed, in rehearsal

for the next candidate earth, and everybody is a poet,

or a banker, - or both.

Twelve

The world has become a village;

husband messages wife via satellite,

'home sn jst arnd krnr'.

Tonight I ate kiwi from New Zealand,beans from Kenya,and

Sixteen

a nice little sorbet, that was made under licence in holland

for a german company. How cool is that!

Twenty

Twenty people just like you have died of hunger

when you read this poem.

Could you not have read

just a little bit faster?

©Niall OConnor 2013