Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

he rumble on the land
carbon boot print and tank tread
sand vampires drink the inky blood
filthy black fix of the undead

guard wells beneath the flames
of twisted steel and mass graves
war president count his votes
trod on, hydrocarbon man

Tread lightly through that black muck....

indeed.

sold our soul to that black muck ...

sticky rumble mess
to dislodge
to walk clean
to disengage
alone in the wild

indeed.
disengage, if only we could . . .

something i wrote awhile ago.

--"tell us about your energy plan.
he pointed to his hummer and m-1 tank
parked in his driveway" . . .

(i left this part off) ...

good poem & theme.

The only lost cause is the one we give up before we enter the struggle.
SUMMER MEDITATIONS by Vaclav Havel

I gave up. It all makes sense to me now, it makes cents on the bottom line. So I keep the faith and trust in God.
It is printed right there on our money least I forget.


Hydro-Carbon Man a genus of Homo economicus

"LSMFT, sold American"
Trillions of dollars invested in
machinery, refineries, ships, pipelines, how can we turn our back on it until we have amortized that expense and sucked every dollar of profit out of our investment. Most of all what about the jobs that would be lost.

Back to the future. Perhaps one day we'll be blacksmith-poets and the rest of us will keep the war-machine well-oiled.

~A

all kneel before Petrolius !

petrolius ! ... haha.

thanks jack, kailashana and steve . . .

rumbling, invading strung-out oil junkies... and we should blame ourselves, right?

yes, partly . . . but BIG AUTO, BIG OIL and BIG "DEFENSE" more majorly . . .