War of the States
As the ship sank further yesterday in this
our fearful trip I couldn’t help but wish
for the Captain’s voice, but he’s too long
been cold and dead. In the stretch of time
that followed his fallen frame, our young
republic outgrew bouquets and bells and
ribboned wreaths and voted to reconstruct
our taste for civil war, our need for fear.
The dream has grown pale and still, the
grail of brotherhood lost, the pulse barely
faint for the united states of us. Now every
man eats what is right in his own eyes. *my thoughts yesterday drifted to Whitman and Lincoln and the words above…
man eats what is right in his own eyes. *my thoughts yesterday drifted to Whitman and Lincoln and the words above…