Tuesday night poetry

Men and women of past millennia
Did not move mountains, they WERE mountains
I am the littlest speck
Of dust in a shaft of sun
That the minder of such things
Wants removed

My forebears communed with the waves and the wind
And knew the cycles of berries and birth
My days are marked
By sirens and stained
With artificial lights
That block out the stars
I've only seen once

Sweet water and soil microbes
Flowed through their veins
Plastic flows through mine
And lead, and PFAS
Allergic to the food I eat
Food so unrecognizable flavor and color
Had to be added back
Banned in 30 countries
But fed to us through a straw

Free people, proud and fierce
We are no longer
Deluded to believe that
This open air prison
Forced labor and poison
Strict rules and harsh punishments
Is somehow "free"
Because the guard at the church house
Tells us it is
Led right to the slaughter
Whilst singing hymns
Of salvation.