Of Doom and Glory

We hurtle on this vessel

Through asphyxiated blue waters

Chased by the approaching shadows

The ghosts of the colonized

Propel us

And we steer with arrogant futility

They line the boulevards

With symmetrical metal and glass

And plant trees to terraform our stolen fields

But beneath perfectly laid stones

A drumbeat of approaching footsteps

of unpolished boots and marching mothers

A chorus of rage rises

The simple arithmetic of wealth

Unevenly dispensed

Does not reconcile

And cancel the tremors

That grow like rapids and thrash us about

Our coxwain chants and lauds

The ringing of registers

Our captains of industry

Our false profits

Promise us glory

As we hurtle and row with fury

Overboard the dead in the gallows

Replace them with the children of a lesser god

We are born of violence

But must mourn in peace

Preserve their pristine palaces

Drown our sorrows in drink and dance

And art for sale

And sail and tilt blindly into our doom