(The day the clock stopped)
The master monkeys master plan,
Formulated while sitting on cold hands
A necessary, primordial game with buttons,
Cites just, logical and ethical convictions.
“The clock says its five before twelve.
The clock keepers in university towers
They of, noble intellectual endeavors.
The Fusion matter initiators
With robotic helpers,
In their factory fortresses
See themselves as protectors.
Fearful troops of other actors
Work tirelessly, on new reactors.
Slaves in fieldwork work harder
And desire the products
Offered by advertisers.
In The War to end all Wars
A hundred years since not past
Where when in, first cousins clashed
Or so the story is noted.
World War One - Ended!
When the soldiers in their humanity
A Christmas Truce incited,
It’s a long Way
To Tippeary
It’s a long way to go”.
Here the master monkey sighs-
The troop collectively had reared their voice.
Time stopped there and then-
Like reality in dreamtime
The buttons now all broke.
And I awoke. Time,
Had offered.
Agreed upon social order
© Calac.
Chris Lane
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/eleven-fifty-five-pm-23-55-the-doomsday-clock/
