Copyright © 2009 Ernest Bloom.
History's weight comes on in waves
Massive tomes far too heavy to read
Especially on quiet weekend mornings like these
Better deployed propping open doors for friends to enter
On a day like this the friends I miss most are
Whitman and Lincoln and Herman Melville
And I'd open the door for Scott Fitzgerald, too
And welcome choppy green seas under
Close North Atlantic thunderheads shredding angrily, while
Deep down the lobsters walk backwards, antennae wavering
And horseshoe crabs equally unperturbed
Lost in exoskeletal crustacean thoughts
We'll never grok
Master meter in the first stanza. The second _wavers_ at times but how else seeing as we are talking the 'choppy green seas under?' The wave and North Atlantic similes create a strong connection between the two stanzas and serve to emphasize the feeling of decadence and golden ages gone by. I do sometimes wonder why it seems history has no direct weight or impression on the thread and fabric of some folks' soul and mentality. Submarine crustaceans indeed! The ending's hilarious, profound and relatable at the same time.
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