I detest green—
wear dark-tinted shades to alter trees and grass to nickel lead.
I am amazed to read how that relentless, lying chlorophyll is
slowly gassing us,
100 hues all whispering
“We do no harm,” while secretly beguiling us to water it
and spraying us with quasi-oxygen called ozone-xxx.
I put my Ray-Bans on, apace.
This protective vert-less vista
harks me back to olden, Nordic Ice Age panoramas
whose environmental threats
were all predominantly saber-tooth and mammoth-tusk!
That air was very pure, not vilely processed yet by so much
while all those antelope we celebrated on our cave walls
kept the herb in check,
or so we told ourselves,
while verdure tricked weak human minds to cultivate it!
We became its slaves, nursemaids, provisioners! Race-traitors
sang its beauties—
not me, though!
I closely crop the grasslands into penal stretches one inch high
with special lockdown “greens”—
and all those bad Plant Kingdom hombres screech!
So lumber! Overgraze!
God said “Subdue it,” Don’t forget that. Okay? Am I right?