Up and down
like giant carrion in the fields,
they suck the blood of prehistoric forests
and rotting dinosaurs.
Between their claws they spew and spit
the foul black mucus
into troughs and tubes
that bear it to the flames
that heat the blood of pale and fearful man,
who cries for "More!"
struggling to survive
upon a dying earth.
©Lorna Whitelaw/Anderson, 1980I don't think I can add anything to that.
(Link to her poems, (at least, the ones on my site) here. Oil Pumps is on the page, "This Dying Earth". Please excuse any wonky formatting; I'm re-doing everything.)