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Dave Bonta
I met a sea captain
telling stories of slaves:
how they pay for the water they drink,
how they eat on their feet,
how they are all slaves to industry
and other work is counted a crime.
I drank a great deal with him,
my head aching.
Two monsters,
Iron and Coal,
Sleep in the darkness.
A poisonous scarlet breath blows over them,
And they awake hissing and writhing,
And spew forth blood-red vomit
In streams like fiery serpents.
Then from the reeking pools
A monstrous brood is born,
Black, strong, beautiful.
But we turn away our tired eyes,
And try to find the sky above the smoke-clouds.