• the great dilemma of the oil people


when i say my heart 
is this place,
it is not a metaphor.

if this place is to be lost
to the blood so ready to pour from
the body of our greed - 
thick and black:

if this place is to be lost 
i am to be lost,
we are all

do you understand the truth of that?

the way roots grow -
not from feet into soil
but from place into person.

break these shores and i will know 
what it is to be broken.

it was decided somewhere along the line:
this place is worth risking
to fuel a culture that chooses 
convenience over connection;
a calculated risk crafted with the blind consent
of oil-laden addicts.

and when your roots have been stunted 
by the concrete; 
well, you can not feel the loss 
like those who depart from the sidewalk, 
like those who were grown straight from the earth.

but trust me 
when i say -

if you go looking to be whole someday
you may find something as vital as a pulse, 
is nowhere to be found.

you may find the soothing sound of a future lapping at your shores,
is missing.

- april bencze


PoetryApril Bencze