RT Poetry

From Chico came the plan

To fore metal deep below

So we reed, to every man

To make our mere fortunes grow

It was mire - our folk ill-used

Laboring in passes dark and deep

Returning bloody, banded, bruised

The dame made us weep

And ring, with words obscene

Beholding land so raved

As if war was wed on fields green

We thought no beauty could be salved

Restore the treasure so basely stole

Heal the land and make it whole

POSTSCRIPT

After some years, the town built a museum to keep a record of these sad events. The exhibits include the industrial corporation’s rather puzzling notes on some of the items extracted, and the overall operation.

"Who's da guy throwin' all da fireballs?" [3]

Stylish, in the past [3]

"Boy, the Stones sure look older!" [3]

1986 [Russia] - 2001 [South Pacific], so about 15 years [2]

Racing where cold becomes good [5]

Right, Ava took US high school equivalency test [5]

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