The Deadly History of Writing

Once upon a time we carved our words in stone
And broke the backs of slaves to erect
A few, monumental phrases.

For awhile we slaughtered sheep
Stole their skins and inked
Our thoughts on their hides.

Then we ground
Thousands of splinters to pulp
For mass fiction and the presses.

Now we power imaginary pages
By, so they say, burning remains
Of the prehistoric.

One day, I think
The worth of all of these words
Will be weighed.


  1. Whoa, chilly. I really like the last stanza.
    Though I can't say I feel too bad for the dinosaurs.
    Do you think there is a next stage for "etching" our words and ideas?

  2. Clever! Who knew writing was such a violent activity...the pen is mightier than the sword, literally!