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Slinging Stones



Satellites launched by vainglorious behemoths craning for an ascendant view
collide in a heaving firmament
squelching cell phones and televisions
supply chains and weather forecasts
jeopardizing the vulnerable
when distress calls go unanswered
granting reprieves to the condemned
as smart bombs lose sight of their targets
Replacement orbiters quickly restore the far-flung exchanges
returning GPS to the heavens
remotely reconnecting a world
that spins indifferent to its spoils
The newly scattered cloud of wreckage
subsumed by the mass of debris already encircling the planet
hangs forever over our heads 
remnants of man-made constellations
evidence of our fallen stars
 
In a parallel procession
within the polluted darkness of the Atlantic
two stealth submarines
shrouded in slow motion silence
hit and run as they prowl the seas on a holding pattern
impatiently awaiting Armageddon
to unleash their arsenal in the final act of retaliation
Continuing a cold war course
oblivious of the damages sustained in the crash
carrying out their perpetual ocean patrol
in a cloaked underwater choreography performed
to the whirling waltz of an artificial stellar array
Narrowly escaping a nuclear explosion
and its lingering toxic fallout
they proceed without a whisper of contrition
or willingness for change
 
Between the starry heights and briny depths
convoys snake across the globe
Aggressors and insurgents
ensnared in endless struggles
blast each other sky-high
swapping partners from those left standing
stumbling together in a doomsday dance marathon
now invigorated by a synthetic techno beat
as robots cut in for weary soldiers
and cosmic computers direct
drone flights and weapon strikes
Digital battle cries howl from secluded office cubicles
Commands issued with keystrokes
ricochet off stations in space
to unleash deadly force a world away
 
A proliferation of satellites
secure the ultimate high ground for the power elite
making easy marks of disadvantaged adversaries
while sparing their troops the brutality of combat
hardly troubled by the blood on their hands
too arrogant to sense the shame of the fallen
defuse their seething hatred
that in time will wrench opportunity from obsession
Taking inspiration from boys who sling stones in frustrated rage
at those callously crushing their lives
desperate Davids one day will hurl
a rocket loaded with pebbles
to detonate in the congested confines of space
causing a celestial chain reaction
that sends objects careening
one into another until nothing is left
bringing mighty Goliaths to their knees
and humanity down to earth
 

 

 
 
 
 
 
To Chalmers Johnson

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