Wormholes
Swirled in the majesty of springtime dust,
Infused recombinant DNA,
Genetically modified dandelion clocks
On the breeze are borne far away.
Super-weeds with strangling intentions
To spread from estate to estate,
Mutated betrothals with arable death,
To marry the wheat and cross-pollinate.
Where the pylons stride like steel goliaths
With power surging their cable veins,
Leaking down raw electricity
To grow tumours in bovine brains.
Beneath the grass drones a throb and hiss
That pulses through the shifting soil,
From a buried drum of chemical waste
Moving slowly to the boil.
In the wormholes underneath the turf,
Radioactive, deep and seldom seen,
The worms are getting set to turn,
All big and bright and glowing green.
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