Send me back to nature
I am not something you can grow and harvest to supply demand
Surplus to requirements I cannot fulfil on what I have been fed
I will reclaim the lands I lost to you and your machines
Mechanical masters of marketability
This was wasteland once then nourished now overproducing, overfarmed
Too much from too little spread apart so far the ground is screaming the food is beautiful but -
Aesthetic attacking the process made to let soil grieve for its offspring allow itself to drown the earth with what will make new again
And without
We are surplus