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The poem on this page is from an old book of poetry I had, I would sometimes write thought fragments on it while riding the bus, no solid dates were written down.
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Silver trays are the teeth of the giant
beast that eats everything.
Piling, high inside the mind,
the wastes of a society gone mad.
Eating, eating, eating
Cleaning, cleaning, cleaning
The rubber gloves, clothed like an awkward
frog, grasp the pans and drown them
and submerge the pots in the horrid stew of
wasted food, afloat on putrid water.
"arigato, arigato, arigato..."
The song is sang to the sound of the
mechanical monster that swallows the dishes
and spits them out clean.
The huge, noisy, monster dies, and lives again---
attempting to confuse the frog hands as they grasp
the lids, teeth, and other broken pieces of the
common flow that is blind to its innards.
The mindless people are the future forks and spoons
of society. They line up--- as if to be washed
and cleaned, never seeming to notice the inside
of the world they eat.
