The Immigrant

Hoist sails with gaping holes, and
Hide the sides that leak.
They’ll breathe before the water’s pull
Steals color from their cheeks, and

Silences their significance.
O change reality
Where every candle’s quick is lit
And every life leaves seeds

That should eas’ly find the sun
Were it not for bloated selves
Who steal more than any one should have,
Leaving little else, leaving

Nothing in their wake but them
Convinced their word’s the one
With more promise, more power, more permanence
They, the favored sons

With no care to favor’s other
Squeezed too tight on peril’s board
With songs we now will do without
And our world can ill afford

To lose the voice, the heart, the soul
O! Their angels will accuse
The ones who ask with no real care
“What could we really do?”

Take life’s true risk and dive, O Man
Step off your wealthy shore
Keep that boat atop the waves
Let it go down no more!