Quecreek Flood


It was late in july at the quecreek coal mine

when the water came rolling down

as black as bad blood to where nine good men stood

shuddering, shivering, shouting for deliverance

sure they would drown

and safe above ground, the boss paced around

surveying the scene of the flood

after chasing away the UMWA

so inspections were cheap- still he didn’t lose sleep

he just stood in the sun- "what could we have done?"

he said, "this was an act of god"

and the president came from his party campaign

to shake every hero’s right hand

after slashing the funds for the miners’ black lungs

and the regulations- "god bless our nation," he said,

"united we stand"

and the anchorgirl cried when the miners survived

she lauded her god in his glory

and the tired cameraman packed up the van

and they wore the same frown as they drove out of town

where they found the next sellable story

and we who were raised by invisible hands

and we who were raised on government lies

we prodigal children of the promiseland

who’s gonna open our eyes?