Machine Head

Can you hear it?

Some would say it is the sound of progress

I beg to disagree

I hear it as nothing more than a dissonant cacophony

The gears turning

No more oil to be applied to the squeaky wheel

Begging for attention

It gets overlooked as the madness overwhelms

The clock ticks

As numerous cogs spin in a pointless frenzy

Inner compass dead

Cracked and crippled without clear direction

Pushing and pulling

One side not knowing the purpose of the other

Grinding and screeching

This is surely the sound of progress denied

Smokestacks billow

Thoughts of growth and development fuel the fire

Belly of the beast

Ravenous for our never ending pursuit of futility

Fed very well

By the rapidly declining machine head

Advertisement