Gulf Oil

across the platform sea, we are slick
petroleum nation, aghast, we gasp
we can not see the basin floors
across the heart and hope to die we smile not
upon the untouched stage, the watery grave
unimpressed by what we gave
to call this place of rolling peace
a sanctuary of long-term-lease
and pump, and drill, and work and die
where fish and fowl shant swim, nor fly

Sacred alms scattered here
float to where our deepest fear
flails about in thickest sorrow
hope alone describes tomorrow
blessed by trouble's longest hour
cursed in fact atop the tower
echoing the voice of fate
perfection in this tattered state

do not leave me, hardy friend
sit a while, while I defend
the sea, the land, the air, the fire
sludge the glaze for new attire
glistens now as urchins wallow
Gods own hand is forced to swallow
all that is which howls our name
dignified despite the blame
ravaged for the common cause
none of which suffers pause

(c) Terence B. Gelber All rights reserved
May 1, 2010