SHUTTLE TO MOTHER-SHIP
There’s a hole in the sky
Letting death rays in
The rain comes down
And burns the skin
Another forest fall
Losing oxygen, hard to breathe
And the fat cat sits
In a tall glass tower
Counting his money
Hour after hour

A black slick on
The ocean boils
Dumping ground for human soils
Raped by drift net, void of life
Another food chain lost
Losing sustenance, hard to feed
And the fat cat sits
In a tall glass tower
Counting his money
Hour after hour

Paranoia spreads over the land
People see others through eyes of fear
Minds poisoned by chemicals
Science baffled by new disease
Humanity buckling at the knees
Trying to breed through rubber sheathes
And the fat cat sits
In a tall glass tower
Counting his money
Hour after hour

The shuttle flew low across the sky
“Shuttle commander to mother-ship
Permission to leave this dying planet
Not even worth the time to burn it.
There only appears to be
One lower life form left at all
A fat cat sits in a large glass bowl
With bulging cheeks, and saucer eyes
Surrounded by piles of useless paper
Hardly worth turning to vapour.”
By Joy Faulkner