by Maureen Kingston
a hot load, a hot shot
through the weakest vein
the great plains
where seldom is heard
a discouraging word
where dissent is drowned out
by the global cash machine
he maketh me to lie down
in green pastures
the pipeline’s well-designed,
the engineers assure
a mighty fortress is our god,
a bulwark never failing
the promise of jobs & safety,
a universal hope or a uniscam?
The Good Life, Nebraska’s motto,
her citizens gracious to the end,
pouring pitcher after pitcher of tar sands
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