Catastrophic Convertor



Metallic cut-throat dynamos lacerate the atmosphere

with four rubber tyres burning black marks in the mud;

carbon copies of carbon colours as far as the eye can see –

a sea of alloy and glass. A mass of exhumed dinosaurs

pumped through thirsty fuel tanks, belched skyward,

to roar through a mountain range, on a poster,

in an advert, our image of ourselves let loose

with the power of the Gods; the last aspiration of man.






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