The park is dark yellow again.
Almost everything has burned down
into yellow, ochre, umber, black.
Even the greens seem repainted
by the oily fingers of consumption.
The same heat in the north, in the south.
The Earth is feverish.
Air conditioners breathe cold air
into its burning face.
Most people still do not care.
They leave for trips, festivals, islands.
The airports are packed.
The fast-food chains and famous brands
make more profit.
The factories and slaughterhouses
continue their usual work.
Nothing —
absolutely nothing —
has changed.
For decades, I have taken no holidays abroad.
No more flying.
I do not eat meat. I own no car.
No social media.
I do not watch the next stupid Netflix series,
or worship sport from a sofa —
people watching sport from a sofa
while they drink and eat more.
And somehow, I am the strange one.
I am the weird.
Those who consume more
are called normal.
This is a planet size madhouse.
Nature is dying, burning out;
almost everything is vanishing.
Still they carry on enjoying themselves.
They move the summer holiday to autumn.
Problem solved?
And the politicians they elected
do nothing,
or lie as they have always lied.
Most of the media
do the same,
because if they told people:
You are stupid,
they would lose their subscribers.
This is the perpetual motion of stupidity.
Raise the GDP.
Boost consumption.
Increase the desire to increase.
Feed the hunger for more.
This is existential brutalism.
The REM phase of ethics.
This is the maddest period in history:
an age of educated fools
who know exactly what they are doing
and do it anyway,
and our self-destruction is sold as happiness
The Earth is weeping:
wildfires, scorched fields,
famine, wars,
a long flow of tears
for all we have made extinct,
but people do not care.
They keep licking their smartphones:
sweet, bright, bloody screens.
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