There’s interference in everything
Or else trains
On straight tracks
Wouldn’t rumble and swing.
Ploughing a straight furrow
Is a poor resolution;
Since when has a field
Been a symbol of order?
To the worms and the seeds
Those pristine Nazdac cliffs
Are jagged anarchic hieroglyphs.
So, without even thinking
The important and powerful
Tidy their worlds
With straight lines on a map.
Rupert Swallow 