The toil to recoil the oil that roils and spoils the beaches and furthest reaches of each and every creatures home. The Gulf between the shot callers and the load haulers guiding trawlers out of New Orleans dock squalor to skim red-brown sickness with a thickness from the waters of sons and daughters of forefathers. From brooms to booms to board rooms we all assume the safest drilling could be presumed to resume despite oil plumes and toxic fumes on beaches patrolled by corporate goons who silence and conceal with zeal the media loons. The blame games and insurance claims to drain the veins and seize the reins of company coffers to relieve the pains and scrub the stains of acid rains. The blowout preventer didn’t and the rude crude enters the center deeply seeping into the sands in the hands of safety commands under the brands that own our lands and ruin vacation plans. The solution inventors trial and error centers engenders a loss of patience in the face of the rapid pace of revenues lost, growing the cost of cheap gasoline. Resource extraction and man’s interaction putting the coast into traction as the tourist faction recedes from slicked reeds. Shrimp boats float and sit remote from harvest waters. Fish schools and ocean tools guided by brilliant fools across Earth’s pools to break the rules for fossil fuels. As we gas up our Chevys, do we think of the levees and the bevy of heavy machinery? The wildlife dying and businesses trying amongst idle workers crying with executives lying to volunteers drying out birds not flying on wings slimy and grimy…