ENVIRONMENTAL Poem: Sacred Mountain, by Douglas Johnston

Oh, Sacred Mountain
Oh, lush green fields
Out of heartbreak, such delicious irony

We love the fruits
Of hard work and victory
But Franken-fruits or agent oranges
Surely end as ash in our mouths

Oh, Sacred Mountain
Oh, lush green fields
Say it, don’t spray it. Where are the bees?

Our crops may be bug-free, though something lingers
Doubt? Or a more sinister residue? I’ll pass on the Dee Dee Tea
Can’t see the forest for the trees?
We just want to keep our seeds

Oh, Sacred Mountain
Oh, lush green fields

Our heirlooms are sacrosanct

Now swallowed by a bigger fish
From Bavaria? The name rings a bell
Moral now? Hero or a heroine? Not quite
An early trademark was heroin

Oh, Sacred Mountain
Oh, lush green fields
Now bought by those who made Zyklon B

Seed sovereignty lost; nature patented
Merged with users of forced labor
Whose trucks drove under the ARBEIT MACHT FREI arch
And knowingly spread HIV

Oh, Sacred Mountain
Oh, lush green fields
How can you sleep?