Crustal Deformation.


Summer sky thick with clotted clouds

As the drip down sweat curves along the valley

Unfolding into the yielding moment of a swollen harvest.

Sluggish slowing streams slip together in sweet embrace.

Roiling in tumbling turbulence they slice hard rocks

Opening thunderous wounds in thick granite.


With welling waters flowing through thick granite

Bursting forth in tremendous steaming clouds

Overlapping skin of variegated ancient rocks

With piston powered pluvial spears gouge the valley

Singing with cacophonous choral delight. Embrace

Wholly the driven plunge into the wholesome harvest.


Welcome then, with open arms, the shrinkwrapped harvest

Of their back-breaking labour. Render Endless your granite

Pity unto every squat leathered servant that Freedom fails to embrace.

Do not think on the gouging and scraping they endure as clouds

Overhead scudding by twist out their last moisture on your produce in their valley;

In the valley below the clouds where your servants are broken on hard rocks.


Watch and smile in glazed indolence as the foundation of your happiness rocks

Under the slowly increasing inevitable momentum of the seeds of your harvest.

The hammering and the murmuring bubble up like milk through granite

Until you can no longer remember the whispering wind of the valley.

Until you can no longer remember the relief brought by the clouds.

Until you can no longer remember the feeling of that once complacent embrace.


Engage with the torture wrought with the gnawing certainty that you did it. Embrace

The rotten truth that you are a leech, that we are engorged on others. Let the rocks

Of this reality crush you, pound you to dust, smash your bones into clouds.

It’s okay, isn’t it, that every little button pressed is another reckless harvest

Of people never acknowledged as people? It is okay; even carvings on granite

Eventually erode. Your transgression will evaporate. Even the valley


Will wear away. Just the upthrust bones of buildings strewn over the desolate valley.

Yet in dotted patches – here and there; sprouting shoots. Embrace

Now the hope that comes after terrible failure. Cease your easy weakness. Be granite

In the face of what you have done and rebuild, regrow, rebirth even as the rocks

Supple and slow, stretch their muscles, one epoch at a time, awaiting their harvest.

Don’t dismiss the possibility that happiness, not just pain, can come with the clouds.


Roiling in tumbling turbulence they slice hard rocks

Unfolding into the yielding moment of a swollen harvest.

Summer sky; thick with clotted clouds.

Published by

The Sleepcoat League

Armchair anthropologist, sometime scribe, freelance philosopher, amateur artist, part-time poet, musical maven, alliteration aficionado.

9 thoughts on “Crustal Deformation.”

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