drill baby drill
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#posts #poetryAnother oil spill smile, another distrusted now forgotten coastline, another melody sung from one server to another, another ice cap turned legend, another eyeball turned to glass. Headlines offer prayers, increasingly rare jackpots and continual helicopter crashes. Drink it all down, the metallic tinged water, drink it and be grateful, your spine compressed, your neck cramping, ignore this faint smell of petrol. Words falling like ashes after a forest fire. Fingers tingle with static potential then escaping blood then you don't feel anything. The moon they say, any day now, the moon. You've heard the sound a dream makes when it pops, you've heard the city groan at night when girders settle. You've listened to the scripture of complex hydrocarbons. You've heard the morning scream. Up to your stomach in industrial by-products now, it's better this way. Out in the harbour, machine mountains are churning day and night, trying to force the ocean to remember land. Watch the colours shimmer and merge on the surface, the neon red bleed into the blue. Breathe in the salt and solvents. I hear funding will be cut soon.
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