Not the one of flesh and bone.
The one whose steel legs pick the world clean,
Clean as American washing machines
The one whose banks are fortresses of power
With all the rats orbiting around them
With the best rat home you'd imagine
The one who made good and evil your brother and sister,
Manifest dragons biting each other's necks
Scales flashing like neighbors and corporate logos
Mindful man trapped in a cultural cell,
Vicious man with reins in both hands.
Not just the world cascaded from them,
But the actual cave inscriptions and fossilized love of generations,
Their ***** deeds and misgivings,
Evil experiments and slave-drivings
Their war-mongering and capless greed
Their style and their flicking tongues.
Don't be so mesmerized by the screen.
Don't be so naive.
Know your mother well,
You won't always be so green.
A poem for the generation z kids