If God Makes The Water Hot.

The lit trees dance in the coal-like night,
it's an Armageddon, silent demonstration.
Because of lawyers and doctors and mining country,
success occurs soley through patience.
And we, damned, won't make names for ourselves,
famous long-ago, twisted Marley nights.
"Gravity ain't no theory, son," judges say
before they spit and fly.
The end of our silently screaming film is beginning
because if God makes the water hot,
we'll sleep at peace tonight.

yo, i changed my pen name. i was (and still am) westnedge to park.