Haunting beauty shrouded in mist,
peace as it exists without human complaint –
no poverty, no conspiracies, no human toll,
and just beyond, the sea, where
calm waters and violent raging storms
share dominion, asking no one for permission
to rule in the midst of human frailties.
Fort Gorgeous, hidden in the fog bank,
built for homeland security,
was never fired upon and never fired a shot.
The warmongers and the fascists
protect the rich from the rest of us.
The quaint islands are sanctuary
for barons of pollution who commit ecocide
because business is business.
But who’s paying attention or wanting better?
The nation has slipped into megalomaniacal pathology,
you know, where torturing others
and doing bad things to other people
is like having sex with a prostitute
you don’t have to pay.
Ancient rock formations guard our shores,
like prehistoric beasts settled in silence,
so unlike our transient selves,
a hopeless reflection of hope unending.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem