The trip to the corner store
Key ignition to shorten shuffle step
Could you feel the drill?
Pulsing through the surface
Pulverizing rock and dirt into specks of dust
The bus ride home
Did it taste like salt?
Did it cover you in black?
A dark blanket wrapped around
A casket carved out of delusions
The bottled water sitting on your desk
Is it reminiscent of a quiet failure
Or the roaring explosion that took 11 lives?
One that quickly dwarfed Alaska
Swallowed the world in its horror
How about that plane ride to New Orleans?
Could your selfish eyes see the 1,866 dead birds?
Did you pay the extra fare?
Not for baggage
But for 463 slaughtered sea turtles?
59 dead sea mammals?
Drill baby
Drill
That is our mess that is making the sea a little less pretty
So much more than an eyesore
Our cute little secret hidden in our closets
Our cognitive dissonance that was rude enough
To awaken us from our sweet dreams
That candle
That lighter
That car
Those are OUR failures
It is our criminal fingerprint
Embedded in the oil
Not Obama's
Not BP's
Ours
And we will not be able to wipe it away any time soon
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