Babel, From an Airplane Window

We are climbing Newton's ladder.
We are climbing Newton's ladder.
Every rung goes higher, higher.
To the heavens we aspire.
A pullulation of angry cars.
This Babel.
Stretching from microchip to Mars,
The bricks built not with Promethean fires,
But with the screeching of nuclear gyres.
Hitchens and Dawkins sat on a wall.
Hitchens and Dawkins had a great fall.
From a crack in the wall I saw a great sight.
The cities all waste and a landscape of blight.
The weary ways cast up their dead,
And Earth's ancient rivers had turned to red.
From a widening gap both near aned far,
A Babel of languages prophesying war.
Rock-a-bye Lady in a suite-top.
When the Earth shakes the cradle will rock.
When the steel melts the cradle will fall.
Down will come Rock-a-bye Lady and all.
Babylon, Athens, Alexandria,
Jereusalem, Rome, London,
  and Washington, too.
And at my back I hear
Time's winged chariot drawing near.
London bridge is falling down.
Falling down.
Falling down.
My fair Lady.
And isn't it the greatest pity?
Greatest pity.
Greatest pity.
We have no con-tin-u-ing city.