Issue Poem by Stan Petrovich

'For Her I'd Even Try and Turn the Tide.'-Johnny Cash

To the feathered decks
To the breadfruit isles
I suffered, we suffered,
And I alighted after much
Ruffling and unease
At a land unknown,
A vault of the sea.

My woman held me comfortably, Balanced perfectly,
And we were rewarded
With an issue,
A vegetable-child,
Who cried not,
Who teethed not,
But who grew handsome and sturdy,
Promising in his wild-eyed youth
To become artistically profound,
And feed millions his tuneful song
Of patchwork rind and seed,
And give hope
Against the greed
Of rulers, of strongmen, of former presidents,
Far and wide,
To turn the tide,
And grant them the freedom to eat,
His own progeny intertwining all the continents
And the seven seas.