Back to the concrete womb

Do we stop or do we go red stops go green arrows mean forward even red ones and so we make our choice to walk in the footsteps of the brave leaving the safety of concrete sharply defined edges where lines are straight and have policemen at the corners and signposts point the way at junctions we make our way as the bold footprints blur and find ourselves surrounded by green an ocean of up and down waves we can’t see over the top of as they wrinkle and rise tip tumble and there is no way except the one we make or follow in the wake of gull and salmon. Can we should we dare if we look back the red wall is there with the comfort of solidity and familiarity keep out the riffraff keep in the heat big screen hot water fridge freezer the size of a bus it’s there still calling and we run back like chicks to the monstrous mother leaving the sea of green and growing or poison-seeping who knows what to its own devices and the wisdom of the agrochemical biotechnology industry and meat producers because our place is at the end of the food chain the top of the pyramid the nec plus ultra the summit of scient terrestrial development unless of course it’s just the end of the line.