posted on Jul, 3 2010 @ 12:36 AM
A semi-rant poem, or should I say semi-poetic rant...anyway. Enjoy.I thought the forum needed something humorous to read. I would also love to read
fellow ATS members poems in response, concerning the oil spill. Could be a very fun thread. Im looking forward to it.
Cutting costs, cutting corners, saving face, saving money, circus antics!
Oil spill, dollar bill, Jack and Jill went up the hill to fetch a pail of water. As Jack came down to water the town, a smell came lingering after. He
looked at the water, and uglier than his daughter was the sight of nautical slaughter.
"Slimy sludge, browner than fudge, ill hold my grudge against the judge who contaminated our only supply of fresh water!" said Jack, with his back
turned to mercy.
Blinded by fury, his thirst for water soon turned to blood. "There's no land to farm with oil in my mud, there's no water to drink because there's
oil in that too, and soon there shall be crude in our food! As he turned to Jill asking "what shall we do", he slipped on the oil which was now
passing through. As Jack fell down, he was swept into the town, where the economy came tumbling too.
As the market went crash, contact with oil soon turned to rash, and the whole town became inflamed. Their fury ignited the oil, raising the town to
the soil, and ash. Robbed of their land, water and cash, everyone wanted a scapegoat to bash.
When the man from the company came, he invited a lonesome dame, to observe their nerve in a devious swerve past justice and due reparations.. they
called it pony and ballooning.
Her anger grew but only coolness came through to the ignorant man in deep blue horizon jack blackery smack crackery overalls. Envisioning the gimp
mask to go with his "hippy pimp" flask engraved a gold "BP", she managed to raise a smile by thinking of his squirm, under the brutality of a
sperm whale rape dream.... he would be providing the lubricant... she thought, bringing a satisfying conclusion to the anal intrusion, left wondering
only who would enjoy it more, her or the whale... or him!?
Understanding her grin, his patience ran thin so to the well they hastily proceeded. With a strange must in the air and a stickiness in her hair, she
fled the scene in despair. Ill poison a pear, feed you to a bear so your intestines will tear, leave your arse numb then throw you into an octopuses
lair, let it suck your face off, then let the face of the Earth suck in your greed and all the oil that spilt out because of it, like a giant zip that
explodes with puss in an eruption of adolescent primal lust and greed garnished by vanity, not knowing the insanity of such a reckless act. Scars will
form. Immaturity lingers in the air now more than anything for Jill. Enough of this drill, i have a family to feed, but i hope you succeed in your
genocidal deed, if thats what you need to satisfy your greed. I would've tried to plead, but clocked your breed, now i know my need, tis sinister
Drilled by greed, with pockets to feed the well had a smell like the arse cheecks of hell.. according to the fish (reincarnated evil ones... like ...
the angler fish...)
but the oil was never cleaned off their land and both jack and jill had to move to another town where Jack could make and break another crown, reorder
his botox perma-frown, so that all his visitors never suspected the sincerity injections from under his gown were infact the source of his seemingly
endless passion to tell the tale of his close encounter with the slippery kind. But truth be told, his heart grew cold as as nothing could sooth the
nostalgia of his old lovely coastal town.
...the end...i guess, it ran dry, but so have my tear ducts and therefore inspiration for this poem. sorry. but thats the truth. Jah bless.