This is man country
sliced out of rock
into a stark geometry,
profit and purpose
set out straight
in every angle, every line.
No place here
for wasteful curve
or graceful contour;
what I see is power impressed
with muscle and metal
on the land,
moor forced to birth
blocked granite not
hawthorn or gorse.
This is man country.
Men who cracked and split the rock.
Men who owned and drove them.
No place here
for feminine, for female.
No place here for me.
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