Puppet Poem by Evelyn Norcott

I cannot conjure any utterance of harmony
My thoughts are frequently lost at sea
Flotsam, ship wreck. The great blue
Controlled by the moon
ties strings to the waves like puppetry
Inconstant moon, more trusting than thy allow
For you bear traps, toss coins, and take bows
At the expense of a paying audience
Such an intense influence on me
My afflictions are hollow; intentions are foreign
I'm a puppet to you like the sea is to the moon
And I hate it