Stripper Well (for Tom)

[Erthona]

.

The wind blows, windmills clunk,
there’s no water left to pump.
Pumpjacks ride: grasshopper heads,
bare slick oil, salt instead.
Trudge through mud with casinghead,
arms feel leaden, cold and dead.
Not much strip left to these wells,
the price of oil has gone to hell,
and for greed, taxed high as well.
Oil pumped out, water’s gone,
not much point to carry on.

[billy]

is this for our shroom tom?

i know nothing about wells, i get the feel this is about a dead head. [no pun intended] the ead rhymes and the ell rhymes don't feel as though they were intended but they do stick out a lot. it has some feel of desolation to it and one can imagine a suicide is near at hand.
thanks for the read as always

[ChristopherSea]

.

The wind blows, windmills clunk,
there’s no water left to pump.
Pumpjacks ride: grasshopper heads,
bare slick oil, salt instead.
Trudge through mud with casinghead,
arms feel leaden, cold and dead.
Not much strip left to these wells,
the price of oil has gone to hell,
and for greed, taxed high as well.
Oil pumped out, water’s gone,
not much point to carry on.

Dale, I am not certain what the 'Frack' this is about. You may be using the oil extraction technique as a metaphor for 'scrapping the bottom of the poetry barrel'. Getting blood from a stone comes to mind. It's that darn strip/stripper reference, I can't see past the T&A.

[Erthona]

Chris,

We frack all our strippers well, or else you'd never get anything out of them, and what's the point of giving them juice when you get nothing in return. Sadly that became the case and we had to kill them all, and let me tell you, plugging up that big of a hole is pricy, not to mention time consuming and a little bit sad.

Dale

Billy,

yes, this was a little bit of tit for tat for Tom and his frayed polyester

Dale

[ChristopherSea]

Dale, it is good to see that you are concerned with our ecology and the stripper profession. I like your economy of words in the construction of the poem, it results in a crisp quick cadence.

[tectak]

.

The wind blows, windmills clunk,
there’s no water left to pump.
Pumpjacks ride: grasshopper heads,
bare slick oil, salt instead.
Trudge through mud with casinghead,
arms feel leaden, cold and dead.
Not much strip left to these wells,
the price of oil has gone to hell,
and for greed, taxed high as well.
Oil pumped out, water’s gone,
not much point to carry on.

Dale,
I am now going to null you...I like this. I have been a lifelong follower of all things Ray Charles and have managed to see him, an exclusive effort, twice...live. Then he died. On his last UK tour he gigged at a local arena with Van Morrison, a malcontent, who was upstaged by RC in a duel(t) of Busted...this reminds me of that. Excellent.
Tectak

[Erthona]

Poor little Van!