Apes and the Plastic Bottle

once upon a time the apes lapped their water from a river,
a small lake, a pond, or a stream;
no predatory tenderness or self-indulgent dream.
or maybe from a leaf collecting early morning moisture,
but never from the turning on of a tap
like a modern feckless business sap
who receives a one thousand mile Caesar's salad
and clothing from Bangladesh
which are daily flown-in fresh
like an avocado shipped all the way from China!
once upon a time the apes did everything by hand:
love and communication they could easily understand.
once upon a time the apes joined in evening campfires
without using Skype or the Internet:
at slower tribal speeds there simply was no disconnect.
there was nothing illusory or remote or overly complex:
no derivatives or obsession with balances and checks.
once upon a time there was life on the plains of Africa,
before the revolutions in agriculture and industry
made it ever more difficult to contain modern human history.
and once upon a time the planet Earth was spinning freely
without an urban landscape, before the flinging of the spears,
there were no technicians for millions and millions of years.