Are You Refined?

I used to paint with linseed,
Now I paint with crude oil.

Draped in cheap oil and sweating oil,
Under an increasingly hot sun, I steer
An oil car, on oil, towards my oil job.

Look at that skyscraper made with oil!
Billboard-size minimalist oils decorating
Spanking lobbies of unctuous firms.

Before meals, I pray and take an oil pill.
To feel upper or downer, I chug a lug oil.

by Linh Dinh

Comments (4)

Hi Denis Joe, I watch the price of oil ($75.48 today, going to $80 soon, maybe by the end of this month) , and keep an eye on the peak oil situation. We're in deep trouble, my friend. Thanks, again, for your comment. I'm very glad you like this poem. Cheers!
There is a strong pathos to this poem. Once theming of the matter of oil wih the starkness of the form gives this great depth. The opening couplet is almost painful to read and sets the tone for what is a massive enterprise, but yet condensed. The 2-3-3-2 structure of the piece belies just how big this poem actually is. The couplets that sandwich the troilets give the reader the impression of travesty. What is the filling is tragedy. An excellent poem!
Thanks for your comments, Joscephine. How we organize our communities is a big concern of mine, hence this poem about oil-dependency-Linh
I would have understood your poem were it not for the title which is very thought-provoking. One has to dig the soil that is your fertile imagination to mine all oil and what they represent.