The World Is Flat After All

Dubbed Democracy, it used to be

top of the line, the lead ship, at sea,

and on the land it served us well,

until the  strains of its death knell

fell,

baring an underbelly swole

with all the pilfered things they stole

in broad daylight, and  on t.v.!

Gone is the half-belief in he

who’ll take us safely to the shore

while staying steadfast to the core.

The compass nestles in the deep

while those on board remain asleep.

They used to say the earth was round,

that right makes might, but I found

that all I knew I now know not,

nor how to tell the truth from rot,

and not so sure that we’ll endure,

to make a safe arrival.

Nan

SO —

I guess the only alternative is to quit

having sex with men?

Those who deliver squirming

residue, self-propelled compost

seeking expression, riding along

in the line of ink struggling to be

known, are our curious midwives

who, pulled inward, wipe the mirror

and meet the eyes, meanwhile

harking to the echoes, letting the

pustules break and hopefully setting

the dandelion chutes free to fly.

The Week” May 17, 2919, carried a note that a 72-year old man has become the first person to cross the Atlantic in a barrel, propelled only by ocean currents.  It took four months for the 2,930 free ride from the Canary Islands to the Dutch Caribbean island of St. Eustatius last week.  Bravo and hurray!         (Image not mine, unknown)