Dang but this is easy to write. You can read the first drafts of the first two parts of UNHOLY ANGLES on Patreon: snippet below.
“Something there is that doesn’t love a wall.” That old fraud! I mean, yes, he was technically correct: nature hates and fears walls, and straight lines, and the order we impose upon it. But Robert Frost didn’t know anything. He thought he knew the country and country life, but it was always only the parts we let him see. You think Frost was steeped in rural life, or Carl Sandberg, or Henry Wadsworth Longfellow?
…Oh, yes, absolutely we had a hand in Longfellow. James Fenimore Cooper, too. We’ve been clouding poets’ and writers’ visions of the countryside for a very long time. Why? So that they’d cloud your visions. Obviously! We can’t have people seeing what really goes on, out here. If you could, then you’d all try to do something about it, and it would be the wrong thing. I know this because it wouldn’t be the right thing, which is to keep your hands to yourselves, and let us keep on with what we’re doing. We do know best, and you will only make matters worse, and this is not a subject for debate.
You don’t want to know, anyway. None of you do. The people in the suburbs, they hate even thinking about the countryside, and when they have to, they make jokes about us. Except that they’re really making jokes about monsters, with the names changed. The people in the cities, they try not to think about farming in the first place. Food gets made in the store, don’t you know? Waves of meat, extruded out of a spigot in the back, wrapped up, then pushed out in styrofoam and plastic. Then people stick it in an oven for a half-hour, and call themselves ‘cooks’ because they can make a meatloaf.
Look, I picked ‘meatloaf’ because you have one on your plate, right in front of you. Concentrate on the now.