This new creation by demand
not summiting some useless stand,
that when you spit it in your hands
look now, behold, its called tar sands!
But here, the handle, 'BRASKA'S pan
reject this omen, the farm man,
the food was put here by God's plan
the soil's our future, planting's scan!
The outside coastlines building up
to droll out water, cup by cup
they call it "flacking", that's enough
we call it stealing from our trough!
They'll be a War here, not "some day"
who has the water, food ~ I pray
the bigger guy still gets his way,
and what we swallow, makes us clay!
We know God did a better thing
the soil, the air, Sun . . everything
Earth to fruition every Spring
but water, Lord, the rain must bring!
It could be vacuumed, what they do,
it's still called hacking, getting through
what else is lacking ~ feeding you?
we're interacting with adieu!
While underneath . . . . measurements lieu
is recreating . . . . water's view!
Copyright © Paula Larson | Year Posted 2016