The Drowned World (1962) By J.G. Ballard.
“These are the oldest memories on earth, the time codes carried in every chromosome and gene. Every step we’ve taken in our evolution is a milestone inscribed with organic memories. From the enzymes controlling the carbon-dioxide cycle, to the organization of the brachial plexus and the nerve pathways of the pyramid cells of the mid-brain. Each is a record of a thousand decisions taken in a chemical crisis. Just as psychoanalysis reconstructs the original traumatic situation in order to release the repressed material, so we are now being plunged back into the archaeopsychic past, uncovering the ancient taboos and drives that have been dormant for epochs.”
― J.G. Ballard, The Drowned World
Skyrise sunset, brutal sunstrokes stabbed at
the bikini blonde on her condo balcony.
Undulating, salt-stained tubulars entwined
Thighs of reinforced glass office towers.
Venice had submerged, with half of Manhattan,
as coastlines crumbled beneath scorching waves.
Cables corroded, causing power outage;
cell phones lost their satellite connection.
Seaweed, thriving with the life of decay,
absorbed and sank geodesic domes.
Neurodiversity fused into virtual black mirrors,
a zebra child cramping motor recovery.
Tropical heat from rising waters
favored lizards and serrated fronds.
Heat stroke did more than damage the brain;
it caused hallucinations of primal regression.
The military cruised by, crazy with doctors
looking for survivors to quarantine.
Science that always sought to control nature
forgot they were a part of nature.
Denial became the operative facilitator
to join a dying herd or to jump into the jungle.
Bewildering constellations eviscerated the sky
and the human memory of the sky.
[Disposable Poem February 21, 2016]