Fracking Hell

I call on the spirit of Owen to help resist the frackers
Gas! Gas! Quick boys! 
Ah, Wilfred, how your cries resound in my head
but parroted by corporate vampires & undead
politicos all eager to suck, to pound
the last molecules of gas from deep underground.
Among all those poor lads’ bones
Wilfred, you knew the tale of leaves
& smothered ferns set down in prehistoric stone –
please help inter that gas within its shale, its coalbed seams
where it will never kill, pollute, incinerate.
(And may the frackers’ drills go soft, their stocks & shares evaporate!)
Still, witness the new Lies peddled by fossilised minds
with licences, with mineral bribes –
Jobs! Jobs for the boys! – our fractious state.
Helen Moore
Pic: Claire Palmer

Helen Moore – ecopoet, Forest Schools practitioner, community artist/activist

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