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Poetry

Wheeling and Ohio

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Wheeling and Ohio

In these western foothills

Appalachia trembles,

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,

Returning,

To pay off the liquid we’re pulling

To provide everyone on earth above

Good living.

.

Why don’t we just crawl down into the caves

To drink the liquid directly?

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