Down on the Wind Farm

Down on the Wind Farm

An alien sun over the sea warms my face
As the chalk cliffs reflect echoes of the unspoilt past.
I steer my craft between the monoliths rising from the sea,
Zigzagging around the satanic cables just beneath the surface,
Sensing the blade-claws carving a sightless orbit
Through air electrostrung with dread.

Towering into the sky like ancient pyramids
The machines march towards the horizon,
Emitting an eternal whining chant in xenopathic tongues,
Dispensing succour from their disformed areolas
To the infants of infinity sleeping on the shore,
Unaware that their feeding will come to an end
Within a few pulses of a microprocessor’s clock.

The sky-borne propellers pierce the sea’s crest,
Morphing into the engines of a submerged hovercraft
Waiting to begin its journey to the event horizon --
A harbinger of melting ice-caps in the stars,
An emblem of humanity’s decaying homeland,
A symbol of the coming darkness.