Passivity is our illusory peace,
Sustained through separation
From the organic engine.
Idling.
Stifled and stagnant within a machine meant to move.
Spending its time sitting, staring at oncoming trains,
Then colliding. Wow. Surprising.
Who would’ve thought?
That, on the scales, there’s
A slow soul-death and a brave combustion:
Prolonged decay and creative destruction:
The tired-gray and life’s seduction.
Who would’ve thought?
That the explosions causing motion
are all we’ve got?
You would’ve thought.