Pylons

There are armies in our countryside Vast columns, marching in single file Through our valleys Over our hills Across our meadows and crops Huge soldiers like Martian machines Striding across our land Roped together by umbilicus Humming with energy To satiate our unquenchable thirst for power Stretching back to great temples That burn away the Earth’s geological heritage Belching steam and smoke to irrevocably alter our futures There are armies in our countryside Spoiling my view Reminding me that we have no real wilderness left And the legions are multiplying Because our need to consume Has become our existence And existence has become confused with life And the army marches on