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
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