This ship of beauty in which we delight
is on course for chaos.
Delirious in our security,
nestled under the guard of our vigilant crew
we rush headlong into disaster’s arms.
When our Stockholm rams us,
cleaving this stately vessel into pieces,
our foundations will fail.
Walls become beds –
made by our mistakes –
that hold unconscious children.
Only then will the sleeping masses
scream naked from their berths
heaving top side, clawing upward
to find port boats dead to need
and starboard out of reach.
Who will be our heroes then?
A drift – our fate unknown.
Who shares this ocean mausoleum
and can rescue us from ourselves?
And when our righting angle is breached
and blame bubbles from this dark starry sea,
who will be left to ask:
“Are the passengers saved?”
July 26, 2006