To see the artwork and read the poems they have inspired, please visit Paul Brookes’ blog here.
The lines we set are straight, right-angled.
We clip short, neat, and brook no deviation from the plan.
We plough straight and even, sow,
spray with benign toxins,
and we build our fantasy of plenty
in a world screaming with want.
Somewhere, farmers are at war for the right to destroy,
and somewhere our neatly clipped spaces are nibbled
by those with nowhere else to go.
How can a deer understand
what we cannot explain to ourselves?