Tidal Waves

The magnitude of the task
overwhelms me, a tidal wave
of responsibility for a problem
not of my making. Perhaps
I am complicit. Perhaps my
sense of duty, my hours of
labour, are to appease my
guilty conscience. It is drown
or drift, a vessel lost among
islands in a vast ocean of
human sadness, madness.
The chances of survival are
slim, like holding back the tide
with ropes or nets. I abandon
both hope and fear in the
pursuit of living, picking
my battles, embracing the
moment, relishing each morsel
of hard-won nourishment.
Is there really a conspiracy
of hierarchy, a super-elite
somewhere behind the scenes,
not concerned with oceans or
islands, battles or survival?
I’d like to meet one, in broad
daylight. I’d like to hold his face
beneath the waves until they
stop coming.

 

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