in Poetry, Politics

Tar Sands

I have seen a grain of sand
Not brown, not blue, just black
It washed through our hands
Oil by the barrel that we can’t put back

Wading through the water
As deep as our knee
Dead lay fauna, fowl, and fodder
And we such fools to think us free

First came the gentle drip
No bigger than a speck
…that kept on dripping that drip
Until it dripped to our neck

I have seen a grain of sand
No bigger than you might think
But it swallowed us whole
When the sand and oil did sink

More priceless than rice
Or so we were told
Because there is no greater price
…than the price of black gold

 

Death to Super Heroes, Democracy Now

I read a lot of articles online, many of them about politics lately.  It seems that there are a lot of people trying to cope with the reality of a candidate with a 93% chance of winning somehow losing in a blowout.  On top of that, I’m seeing a lot of people talking about how bad life is outside of the cities and how their way of life is gone.  I read a lot of questions and complaints online, but never answers.  It’s baffling; are we venting or do we really not know how to resolve our own problems?  If we don’t know how to solve our hometown problems, how can we expect someone living in an ivory tower 2,000 miles away to know what is best for us?