The State of the Ship

The helmsman of the ship of state
Drunk on power, at his wheel prates
Of terror, evil, and bad men
While his servile followers “ahem”

Surrogates note every lame botched word
Broken syntax, the absurd
And loyally his words transmute
Into a fine bold stance that sounds astute

War isn’t war but reconstruction
Justice is equal to obstruction
Torture doesn’t bring one shame
If there’s no intention to cause pain

But the sea we’re on is simply life
Our ship is fashioned from the fact
That we share the meanings joined to words
Which keep mind, family, and state intact

And when those words are hollowed out
As termites hollow mighty beams
Life springs in at every seam
No matter how the captain shouts

No matter how he turns about
Or Pundits finally scream their doubts
All on board will tumble down
Into the thirsty brine to drown

Another age will wonder
What storm or hidden reef betrayed us?
What flaw sent us down and slayed us?
Just the tweets and twitters of a clown?

Just the thunder of a fool
And the blunders of his tools
Men without a common speech you see
Are lost (so to speak) civilizationally