We Break the Past To Build the Future

the chimney stacks of the old power station claws at the belly of the clouds and with its sulfurous billowing it bellows its stench tinting the clouds, yellowing nicotine stains as its cadaverous fingers clench and releases, as it pleases the painted nails sport red flashing lights as the bellowing smoke for airspace fights the dawn is cracked open under the grey steam-pot lid like a rotten egg and the horizon is broken into blocks between the pedestal legs of the spindly chimney stacks progress clangs and clacks on blood-rusted unused train-tracks the scars of progress on an old landscape - weals healed over in ageless veldts whilst weeds pimple between the stays a last gasp of green displays the gangrene death of nature oozing from the suture as we break the past to build the future