arachnids of progress
they're out there, on the horizon,
arachnids of progress sticking their
straight spindly mile-long
metal legs right down into the ocean floor.
off the easy shaded coast of
carpinteria, santa barbera, they sit
poised and sucking the crude lifeblood
of our economy from far beneath
the whelming flood.
right here, in front of children
skipping through the wake in may's new breeze
and couples cradling each other
fully clothed in the sand
and people who would have been called dreamers
forty years ago left scribbling on
scraps of paper, alone by life's gracious,
graceful hand.
there they are, toiling away grey
hours of daylight all in a row -
one two three four five six seven
frozen steel insects forged
by greed, necessity, and surely
very calloused hands.
they light at night, several globes per platform
in the distance warning us
in a way quite opposite of lighthouses,
"don't venture out to sea, we're
here. you needn't be, and we'll
be just fine
without you."
