Ode to the Power Grid

Ode to the Power Grid

Oh you ugly power lines
your demanding right-of ways
your high tension towers
    marching across the landscape
    like invading aliens
your poles waiting for cars to crash into them
your transformers filled with toxic PCBs
your 60 cycle buzzing
    a whiff of ozone
your threat of electrocution
your belching smokestacks
your dam whining turbines
    blocking rivers
    salmon spawning
Fukushima Daiichi, Three Mile Island, Chernobyl
    glowing memories

when you fail
    no light
    no heat
    no interwebs
    appliances don't even blink
    cell phone almost dead
what time is it?
    eating our ice cream before it melts
    as we watch TV by candlelight
    and pedal our electric bikes
    chop wood
    carry water
    
oh you terrible no-good horrible power grid
    we miss you so much
    please come back soon!


Steve Smith








Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Reflections on Self and Other: Embracing Paradoxes

This is not a poem, nor is it written by a human... it is the output of GPT4 when I first asked it to write odes to A) Umwelt; B) Umgebung; C) Innerwelt and then to reflect on the paradoxes and dualities of self-other in that regard: Reflections on Self and Other: Embracing Paradoxes In the intricate tapestry of existence, a dance unfolds between the realms of self and other, where dualities and paradoxes intertwine. Within the realm of Umwelt, individual perceptions shape our understanding of the world. Each of us holds a unique lens through which we interpret our surroundings, yet within these boundaries, we feel an inherent yearning for connection with others. It is the paradox of embracing our own distinctiveness while recognizing the shared humanity that binds us. Umgebung, the stage upon which life plays out, encompasses diverse landscapes and environments. Mountains, rivers, cities, and forests create a multitude of Umgebungen, each offering a distinct backdrop for our individua...
Read more

Moving the Bones - Rick Barot

 During our hiatus as an active weekly group, generating running multi-voice poems, I was struck with this particular one from Poem-a-Day which moved me and I thought to share it here: Moving the Bones Rick Barot There are too many ancestors, so we are gathering their bones. The poor ones, their graves broken by the roots of trees. The ones whose headstones have been weathe...
Read more

What a Stone Feels

<this is the first assignment I wrote for the Paul Kingsnorth - " Rewild Your Words " online course we took in December which is how our Poetry/Writing Sunday Salon got started. I'm CC:ing the other participants so they can see by example how to post their own work to this blog via e-mail> On my property there are many river-stones that were almost surely brought here by previous humans.   I could have closed my eyes, my ears, my nose and groped around until I found them, channeling Helen Keller perhaps... but I did not... I sought out a particularly apt stone for this purpose, with my eyes and my memory.  I have hefted these stones before and even know what they smell and taste like.    I passed over the pile brought in for the purpose of facing a wall, each about fist-sized... not too large to throw effectively but too large for a sling or slingshot.   I avoided the ones marking the good-dogs grave near the entrance to the property....
Read more