THE BOOK OF THE DEAD

By Laura Schultz

Fractured bodies strewn amid the

mushroom cloud of ignorance

the battlefield belies the true seeds

that give birth to the power of deception.

the corporate leviathan devours the remainder

of our innocence

and barricades our tears

as we lay violated

and we take our place

in the Book of the Dead

Emerging as an ominous entity

of obfuscation,

it invades our lexicon

while

a vapid conversation

ensues at every turn,

and we weep

for what once was

the teeming lifeblood

of unpolluted

streams and forests….

and up we climb

the corporate ladder

to the clouds of

the omniscient.

the sunshine that ignited our souls,

is covered in ash

as the ozone eviscerates

our vision.

the forks in the road of yesteryear

have collided

and there are no choices of light remaining,

as the stage fades to black.

The voices of scrutiny

and the shrill cries of outrage

have been replaced with fear,

that has encrusted the arteries

of dissent

and we weep just a little less.

A disturbing quiet

shrouds the landscape

of self-deception,

as the conveyor belts and combines

lay barren and silent.

The corporate microphage

distills the deafness and we weep no more

for those who take their place

in the Book of the Dead.