Spinning

your cold coin of

Oil. Over the back

of a crack,

                 selling shells

                               that shine.

​

...so innocent and guilty

at the same time.

 

Shine! black sun of old

Oil, over us all:

                         yell your tale! of gold,

dinosaurs and trees, tell:

 

buried but boiling...burn out

your bones, along with those

                                     of Thy... Thee! yet unborn!