Angele Toomey Poetry

This is the first poem I wrote on Thursday morning’s commute to work. It was inspired by the view of a quarry that is systematically eating through a mountain. The rock they remove is used for civil projects such as road building etc.

Songs of progress
Great machines
eat the mountains.
Clearing the way 
for neat lines
to be drawn
between the wild
and the tame.

Removing the fluidity of 
the forests
so that a different type of
jungle can take their place, 
that grows hard, cold and fast.

This is what we call progress:
the alienation of life
from reality,
the death of organic
freedom;
and the drive
to consume.

Dancing to songs of
progress,
we have become
the most insatiable 
machines.