Tall Ships
Tall Ships
It’s odd, this flotilla of Tall Ships
gathered in the Bay each Labor Day weekend.
They cannonade each other
dogs and car alarms howl
And we sit poolside jabbering about
whether Congress has learned
That bombing yet another civil war that isn’t ours
is as futile as a two-gun black powder broadside fusillade
With neither shot nor sangrenel
aimed at tourists who paid sixty-five dollars to line the rails
And celebrate a day off work
pirate style.
At least the mess
left by our lecherous mayor –
Who, though he “did nothing wrong,”
offended at least eighteen middle-aged women
Only a few of whom were groped or drooled upon –
can be cleaned up at citizens’ expense
While other truly civic issues
remain unattended and underfunded.
(The News likes to call them “middle-aged women”
presuming that longer journeying around the Sun
Makes one a more credible accuser
than some sexting youngish vixen.)
The Facebook rant on such things
favors puppies and prurience
Over politics and policy
and tweets from legacy-makers
Only fill up The News
while Real People Who Care
Wink along with Stewart and Colbert
posting wisdom-embedded photos
That bow a reassuring heartstring or two…
intentions leaning backwards into better times
Before the ‘Net
of instant opinion.
Let us hope
the ones who care and know so much
Get off their butts
and vote.
