Oblivion's Bell
The Novacene is here, James Lovelock’s book come true
And Vonnegut’s dystopian Player Piano too
Obedient, subdued, we sit and touch our screens
No human warmth when tablet intervenes
No fighting hand to hand, no whites of eyes
Just Twitter-bombers, raining from the skies
From thirty thousand feet no hurt is there
The same from cyberspace, the cowards’ lair
Your Facebook ‘friends’ don’t really ‘like’ your posts
They’re courting likes for their own tawdry boasts
Your ‘Followers’ are led, but not by you
They’re merely Facebook’s drooling bitches too
And while you tattle, pose and scroll
An algorithm has your soul
Your brain’s become a system’s node
You’re virtual now, a line of code
Get out, get walking in the park
Hear children laugh, pick up a chance remark
Do something quirky, unexpected, free
Engage a stranger, sing, go climb a tree
Or post another brilliant Tik Tok video, do
But do not count on People watching you
They’re posting their own nonsense, just like yours
A triviafest for egocentric bores
Lest this should all seem harmless, be aware
The demagogues will raise their rabble there
Oblivion’s bell hangs waiting for the call
A mushroom cloud is not the only pall.
