i’m lashed to the whale
like ahab
his was a fine madness
much like mine
only my whale is the word
and the words often turn on me
and it pisses me off
unless i’m getting it right
this drives my harpoon
but very few notice
this is a world of icons
and texting fingers
mindless video
deluded conversations
of no importance
no one knows anymore
who the fuck is melville?
or sinclair
or bukowski
and on it goes
no sense of history
the deluded masses lashed me
to the word
it is my mission
while ignorance abounds
and i read no more
because it is an act
of desperation
for mindless zombies
clap for mindless reasons
and order another martini
and make guttaral sounds
midst my performance art
shiver me timbers
avast ye mate-ee’s
and i sometimes wish
i could drown myself
in a sea of words
and a sea of whiskey
like a duck
quack…quack…quack
for that is what i say
and that is what they hear
but for a few
–Richard Joseph Cronborg