Monday Poem

On Dystopian Ships of State

I’m on a big boat
(which the nautically savvy
call ship)

if this ship’s a cocooned
load of light atmosphere
its steel will float, but it will tip
if its load’s unbalanced—
if its equilibrium is off
it’ll start to list—
if not adjusted
it’ll end a sacrificial goat,
sucked to bottom by
sodden politics
as History and Neptune’s
universal laws will have
directed and
Jim Culleny
1/13/15, rev 5/23/21