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Mining Madness

Some ten years ago I worked in the mining industry whose dominant paradigm is that unless you work in the industry you are just a burden on society. I was an on site biologist and my job during construction was to save what could be saved and to kill what must be killed, we called it euthanasia but I don’t think the animals concerned noticed the subtle difference in terminology. This was my war and it damn near separated me from sanity, it still haunts me…

It is always July on the Plateau

Rain comes
dripping through the Casuarinas
inheriting the last light
making the gum trees cold to look at

Its low conductive voice muttering disappointment
each drop recalling diamond absolutes
flowing over granite, pinkly tinkling

There is gold in this here monolith and I do not mean the suns explosive vector

This bond of men found in doing, our broken tribute to downtime
Diesel chugs in metronome, intoning and entraining
ceaselessly oozing into pools of rainbow shock
fractals of the sky

In this newly desolate place
the deepest contract is made insecure
Trust torn open
windborne voices roar across the muddy evisceration

We who cut this scarless face see the shattered unborn and cry at such terrifying loss

Journal Comments

  • Kathleen Cameron
  • Robert Knapman
  • Suzanne German
  • mawaho
  • jkp07
  • helene
  • vjwriggs
  • imageworld
  • Anne van Alkemade