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.