Applying Wisdom to the Analysis of Theoretical Orchards (a poem)

 

The work is a slippery image
where inflation holds the keys
graduating ever for nowhere
progress is shooting the breeze

    Echoes of images draw
artificial intelligence dating
hope like figures scrimshawed
arisen for a while with ratings

    The truth was generations passing
economic handles disappearing fast
evolving atheist’s quicksilver massing
to nothingness with themselves in the past

    Bickering proofs pasted paper mache crowns
on pedestals of prosperity
that global warming rain drowns
with  Luddite ubiquity

    Wars conducted with tighter algorithms
fast as light laser bullets fly
unemployed forever targets fall to staccato rhythm
a democrat congress found a way for each to die.