Wave of mutilation

For some reason, the Pixies kept popping into my head as I watched the real death blow being dealt to the trees today. It turns out that heavy machinery is no match compared to the destructive force of man himself. It only took the work of two of them today to pretty much decimate everything behind us. It's an interesting art form, logging is. As much as what I was witnessing sickened me, I couldn't help but watch in morbid facination while the two men sliced through tree, after tree, after tree. If you listened closely you could hear the trunks scream, a high-pitched squeal of fibers separating as their weight worked against them and they came rushing down to the ground with the sound of a hundred cars smashing full speed into a wall at once. It's dark now and the view is like looking over a field of slain giants in the moonlight. The sawdust their blood, the branches their limbs, the bark their armor. Strewn about like the aftermath of a slaughter to end all slaughers.