Article: 288886 of talk.bizarre
From: olskool@ix.netcom.com (Tony)
Newsgroups: talk.bizarre
Subject: Romanian Oil Tower Fire
Date: 5 Dec 1996 06:41:38 GMT
Organization: Netcom
Lines: 37
Message-ID: <585qr2$r0g@dfw-ixnews4.ix.netcom.com>
References: <57l7pm$in3@dfw-ixnews9.ix.netcom.com> <57lvoi$ekj@dfw-ixnews7.ix.netcom.com>
X-NETCOM-Date: Thu Dec 05 12:41:38 AM CST 1996

             Romanian Oil Tower Fire:  a poem



Watching the clock hands move by the hour
I spied a Romanian Oil Tower
It's spire set aglow, on its top, with a gasfire
I stood there transfixed, my eyes on that spire

And the Arabs and Persians, to the East, prayed to their merciful god.

Trav'ling 'cross dusty roads with an old parchment map
I drove in my Trabant, a bottle of tea on my lap
My goal was to meet a girl named Vanessa
Toward that goal, I would board a cruise ship for Odessa

And the new Byzantines, to the West, fought their ethnic war.

As I drove in my car past the Tower so high
I noticed it hurling some sparks to the sky
'Cross the gath'ring dusk yellow sparks cast their glow
As onward towards midnight and the Black Sea I drove

And the Hindus, in far Kashmir, spoke their ancient tongue.

And I thought, to myself, that those sparks could be seen
O'er the plains of the Ukraine, 'cross the rivers and streams
And out oe'r the sandy shores in Baku
'Cross the Crimea, Georgia, in Yerevan too

And in Baghdad, towards the Orient, the night sky was lit with stars,  
   and those sparks, and the beacon of Mars.