The descent of man:
it does spiral down through history and time
to some questionable fate, beyond freedom
it just takes our breath away.
Passing through Huxley’s brave new world,
a controlled world that is– made stable by
bio-engineered castes, who’ve been rendered “blissfully
of passion and old age” by test-tubed wonderkinds,
with social pharmakia and so forth and so on–
well, here came a working class hero
into this spiraling business of mankind.
He wandered in–
another Brit he was, and another genius, at that–
into the vortex of supine wizardry
that is the art and sciences, and of course the music,
hawking tickets to soma magical mystery tour;
he would pied-piper us through strawberry fields,
over men and barrels and hoops and horses
and lastly through some hogshead of real fire,
through the brave new whirl.
“Imagine” said he,
“there’s no countries…nothing
to kill or die for,
no religion too.”
Well whoopdy do.
In your dreams.
All the while, the fool on the hill
had nails in his hands.
But that was no dream;
yeah, I say unto thee, it became the resurrected
brave new pearl
of great price. Oh! what a price!
Now that’s the descent of Man,
and the Ascent too.
What’s it to you?
CR, with new novel, Smoke, in progress