Walking the beach, sun at my back,

Dead sea turtles, shrimp and fish in piles.

The stench of death pervades the air.

Clouds darken the horizon, the wind

picks up, waters swirl, waves carry more

of the dead to shore.  Gulf beaches, once in

their prime, now in their oily grime float the dead,

caked in oil that steadily gushes into the Gulf,

poisoning fish, fowl, flora and families.

BP Oil cries: “Not our fault, don’t

mess with our millions in profits.”

Halliburton threatens: “Not our fault,

don’t touch our profits.”  Transocean

claims: “Not our fault, better not gamble

with our profits.”  “Not as bad as

I thought -- like chocolate milk” claims

one foolhardy local congressman.

Wonder where his profits come from!

“How despicable!” cry fishermen, shrimpers,

boat renters, beachside businesses, those

dependent on the Gulf for their livelihood.

Eleven men dead, beaches ruined,

can’t stop the oil poisoning the Gulf,

wetlands and sea life for decades to come. 

“Come, help us clean up this mess.  But first,

sign here, so we’re not held accountable,”

demands BP.  “Sorry about that,

but don’t touch our profits.  Whatever happens,

don’t touch our profits.”