“Palms of Oil”

The sun does not shine here

As the earth is churn, as butter is churned

The letters of words flow out of my mouth

The birds chirp in tress

The breeze comfort the leaves

Atlas these things foiled

My hands are rough

I’ve been traveling long and that’s tough

Life is rough, and so is the road

My mouth still mumbles

What will happen if the my legs tumble

With the envy of the gods

And the hierarchy of soulless

I ask for more oil

Between my palms