You are trailer trash until they need you

Goons
wanna bees
and baby
kissers,

they are in charge.

Users
bruisers
and the uninspired,

they call the shots.

Preppies
lawyer-ed
and uncaring,

see only themselves…

Do you love this world
and rejoice in it?

Or do you relish the smell of diesel?

Do you love
democracy?

Or do you love
this privileged form of governance?

(It seems the difference
between God and a fallen preacher.)

Many Workmen by Stephen Crane

Many workmen
Built a huge ball of masonry
Upon a mountaintop.
Then they went to the valley below,
And turned to behold their work.
“It is grand,” they said;
They loved the thing.

Of a sudden, it moved:
It came upon them swiftly;
It crushed them all to blood.
But some had opportunity to squeal.

Even if

Even if one manages the drilling like an angel, and has the luck of God… even if, there are inspectors hanging from every rig… and ten feet of regulations at each worker’s side, even if… even if…

It will not change the inexorable facts that with each fracking: we retire millions of gallons of drinking water from the earth’s scarce supply, and we saturate the air with pollutants.  Also, we horizontally fracture miles of rock  below us, and fill those sharded caverns with a toxic slurry of brine, radioactivity, and nasty chemicals.  That is the present state of reality.  Even if we don’t want to believe it.