A Changing World, A Static Man (Eskimo) Poem by Michael Romero

We a(we) re all Eskimos.
Frigid and complacent,
as we look for our friends.
The monsters won’t get us;
we have super-powers.
The sea-monsters won’t get us;
the shore is frozen over.
Shingle upon shingle of icy plates
roof the water –
shifting like Pangaea.

The world is changing, my friends,
but I am not.

My igloo is warm;
my bed is a puddle.
The world is changing –
a massive metamorphosis before my eyes.
I am but an Eskimo,
in a world where all the snow has melted.
The world is changing,
but I am not.
I remain aloof,
while (you) remain desirable.
You could be happy,
if you understood.
I won’t be happy,
in this dreadful land.
My ice cliff is gone.
Where is my snow?
I am suddenly exposed –
and irritated.

The world is changing,
and so are you.
But I will not change.
Though my home dissolves into the sea,
and my friends fade off into the West.
Though Jesus Christ Himself returns in all glory,
and the world takes sides for good and for evil.
I will not change.
I am an Eskimo.
We once were all Eskimos.
But it seems that I’m all
alone
now
.