Poem 17: The Gravy Tanker Disaster

The sky was becoming foggy
But certain names were becoming luminous -

Politicians and literati
Were sizzling steaks.

The gentle ones were bleating
The fat one's bellowed
The thin ones screaming
They were all tender and juicy.

The ether crackled with messages -
A host of commonplaces were transmitted
To the end of the world at the speed of light:
Steak for sale! Good blood-red steak! 

He looked at me with the eyes of a stranger.
A stranger with a fork
was stumbling over what he had just created:
The locomotive of thought had derailed.
Spilling everywhere burning
Twisted rubble of the intelligible.
And they all ran to the hot ashes
of Culture
To make the perfect steak

--David Stokes