[Burningman]

Don't forget you have Sellafield up the street ... Chernobyl in slow motion!

The poet Norman Nicholson wrote a poem about his local Sellafield and paints the picture like no other can.

The toadstool towers infest the shore:
Stink-horns that propagate and spore
Wherever the wind blows.
Scafell looks down from the bracken band,
And sees all hell in a grain of sand,
And feels the canker itch between his toes.

This is a land where dirt is clean,
And poison pasture, quick and green,
And Storm sky, bright and bare;
Where sewers flow with milk, and meat
Is carved up for the fire to eat,
And children suffocate in God’s fresh air.