Zest Lit Issue 2, October 2013 - Page 126

Concrete | Gordon Robert Johnstone

Once I built a concrete balloon,

But I don't think I'll be going anywhere soon.

And I once built a concrete airplane,

But I never much liked flying anyway.

Then this one time I built a concrete tree,

No more breathing for me.

I remember once we built a plastic sun

With hydrogen, polystyrene, oxygen, helium.

We grew plastic plants in plastic gardens,

Plastic daffodils, roses and rhododendrons.

The plastic seeds gave us plastic fruit

Which clogged our airways like acrid soot.

We directed our thoughts to our lifesaving plan

And became a terrifying union of appliance and man.

Evolution turned us into clouds of gas,

An amalgamated mind, hopelessly fast.

We regretted our existence and what we had done,

The actions of our ancestors posed an unsolvable conundrum.

We dispersed our molecules between wavelengths of light

It left me alone to document our last sights.