Eating frac sand, a curious and strange delight, A taste that some may find quite a fright.
Yet I, an engineering poet, find beauty in the grains, As I savour each particle and its pains.
The pains, the sorrow and sadness that these minuscule grains, bring to the far left.
For what is sand but time condensed, Millions of moments, now blended with water that is slick?
As it penetrates into cracks deep down beneath the earth’s crush, making eco-terrorists so sick.
In every grain a story, a piece of earth, A journey that’s lasted from birth.
With each crunch, I taste the salty sea, with a hint of liquid CO2, And feel the wind blowing wild and free.
I taste the heat of the scorching sun, And the rain that washes over all, undone.
Eating frac sand, a connection to right, A union with nature, great and small.
And so, I eat this gritty delight and wash it down with base fluid, Embracing now the hopes of the granola-type stall.
For each grain of sand, indirectly heats your home and moves your truck, A wonderful fact, even for those woke-type, who don’t give a… errr.. damn.