If You Haven’t Recognized Me Yet
People speak of me every day,
A part of everything they do,
Bigger, Better, Faster are
My buzz words to the
Faithful as they strive to “get ahead.”
A rousing beat,
Stronger each year,
The song of Industrialism pounds
In their chests as they follow my banner.
Pandemonium, a cacophony of sound,
The 1812 Overture becomes
A soothing lullaby.
How well my audience responds!
Ignoring past and future,
They rush after my bait.
Trampling others for the shiny
Cars and high-paying jobs.
Living in the mad whirlwind of Now,
The struggle for achievement its own reward.
Blind to all as they pursue the dream,
Dreams that I have given.
My voice
A rumble that breaks the stillness,
That drives the buffalo herds to extinction,
That pounds out a rhythm for the masses,
So they may avoid glancing at the misery around them
As their eyes focus machine-like in concentration.
A screen, I have provided for them,
A gaudily painted Technicolor display.
I am gray.
Like smoke, my promises are insubstantial.
Slowly spreading,
I blot out the light.
Who am I you ask?
I am the one who teaches your children.
Even now, there are seven dwarves whistling to them,
Whistling my tune.
I am Progress.