This is just poetry. It won't save you, but it may locate you so that a rescue party can be sent out. — Dean Blehert

Tuesday, June 12, 2007

Fuels Enter In Where Angels Fear...

To help us break our dependency
on OPEC oil, we have developed
the bookburner. It runs best on poetry
books and magazines, which,
like oil, consist mainly of compressed,
refined fossils. Plenty of fuel.
But we must proceed cautiously
and not commit ourselves to this
energy source until we've established
contingency plans for containing
potential spillage of raw poetry
into the community, contaminating
our children with literacy.

Note: I wrote the above during the FIRST Gulf War, at a time where most poetry still was published in printed form on burnable paper. These days most of it is on the Internet, harder to burn, but still, mainly, kind of fossilized.

1 comment:

Grahame said...

Great poem. It really makes the point. Sort of a Fahrenheit 451.