We’ve not perfected our democracy
But, directly or otherwise, our vote
Prohibits some Castro or Mugabe
Who would be king, trying to singly float
Our ship of state, dictating through hoarse throat
How all his shackled sailors keep at bay
The churning waves of change, with not a note
Of protest sung, although he’d had his say,
Cast out his Bligh, promised a better day.
Now failing to relinquish captaincy,
He bails till some big fish capsize the boat.
Be careful then to which leader you pray,
Whose feet of clay you kiss. Miss Liberty
Stands statuesque and still, delivering no quote.
Thur 15 Mar 2007
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