Sacred Plastic

Civilisations crash on.
Ascended masters,
primed upon the shores
of hardened categories

All is vainglorious pursuit,
beautifully underscored
by more irreducible hubris
than any terrestrial cell
can bear

Each corsair marque knells
darkly forged superlatives,
crowned under sure-thought

The whole world round,
bound by the autocratic
missives of faux gods –
all middlemen wielding
clarions that gild the lily
and the lotus
and the rose
in sacred plastic

Divinity, removed, must
gaze in wonder as the
puritanic classics prove

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