The Ghosts Beg To Differ
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At crushing depths
Titanic rests
Rusticles- like red ice
hang from her corpse
[the excrement of
fathoms deep bacteria]
And now technology
[ undreamed of when it was needed]
peers at her
[long submerged wreckage]
from slick sub-like vessels
taking computer generated
photo mosaics
[for investigators to pore over.]
Once, mystifying questions
are un-layered one by one
from evidence locked
within her tortured skeleton,
revealing
[ not the simple impact of an iceberg]
sealed her fate]
but rather, a 'series of happenings',
[without remedy.]
Rivets with 'too much slag'
gave way
letting in Atlantic's weight
Her belly full,
she hugged her center keel
[in futile efforts]
to keep bow and stern connected.
As she sank, into eternity,
chambered cells,
[once meant to prevent
the onslaught of the sea,]
were swiftly breached
Sea weight tore her
great- ship's-soul asunder,
and sinking to the sea's dark floor,
she took with her,
poor forsaken passengers
[crying in disbelief ]
at the cruel and lying 'myth.'
See sawing down,
the broken stern end
speared, into fathoms deep mud,
the bow rails stayed intact
[for all the ghosts
to lean on ]
And with the solving of
her final hours,
it is unthinkable,
that this rusticled specter
[once so full of mystery]
had been declared to be
'unsinkable.'
ALL YOURS (Jun 10)
Contest Judged: 6/9/2021 11:40:00 PM
Sponsored by: Brian Strand
First Place
Copyright © Suzanne Delaney | Year Posted 2013
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