Oh, Land Ahoy! The main top castle cries,
And sighs released bog down the winds of East,
As children wave a furrow of fingers high,
To Black Cat, as it roars in minstrelsy;
And mothers curl up salt in weary eyes;
And crease their cheekbones at the castle’s cries.
The Sun that prowls above the western sea,
Begrudges draperies of nightly mist,
As promises of friendship flit aglee
Atop the deck, ‘tween arms cut at the wrist,
As freedom from decades of slavery
Flushes their scars like water from the sea.
It is indeed a moment to rejoice,
For who had hoped for veins that breathed in air?
Ebbing in spurts like seaweed-filtered lice,
Their eyes had sought a drug for their despair,
And picking up a knife at drunk sundown,
They’d carved up stairs for hell to ride adown.
And masters, drunk and dead, now lie in holds,
Soulmates with twisted necks and gaping folds,
Oh, what a twisted sight, this, to behold!
A germ of sin filling, as common cold,
The cracks in dazzling deck and hideous hold.
The mothers’ cheeks are fading baby pink,
On spying a dearth of white and wealthy skin,
Pulling their silken robes are wee triplets,
That pine for fathers lying in piteous deaths,
The Black Cat docks with cheers and moans alike;
As Sun and Moon embrace before the night.