Wheeling and Ohio
In these western foothills
Tiny bombs detonated,
Shaking the river for oil.
Small orange bags filled with
Radio signals, computer equipment
Driven down by communication cords
Hang loose from helicopters wings above to the gas
Miles below our surface-land.
Tearing through the mountains,
Toppling the ancient rock,
Shaking the pockets below to the
Pockets walking the street
–Gold coins are spilling.
Into the cracked waters,
To pay off the liquid we’re pulling
To provide everyone on earth above
Why don’t we just crawl down into the caves
To drink the liquid directly?